Вы находитесь на странице: 1из 451

Family Stories and the Life Course

Across Time and Generations

Family Stories and the Life Course


Across Time and Generations

Edited by

Michael W. Pratt
Wilfrid Laurier University

Barbara H. Fiese
Syracuse University

2004

L AWRENCE ERLBAUM ASSOCIATES, PUBLISHERS


Mahwah, New Jersey
London

This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2008.


To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledges
collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.

Copyright 2004 by Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc.


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form,
by photostat, microform, retrieval system, or any other means,
without prior written permission of the publisher.
Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc., Publishers
10 Industrial Avenue
Mahwah, New Jersey 07430

Cover design by Kathryn Houghtaling Lacey

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data


Family stories and the life course : across time and generations /
edited by Michael W. Pratt, Barbara H. Fiese.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0805842829
1. Family Psychological aspects. 2. Developmental psychology.
3. Intergenerational relations. I. Pratt, Michael W. II. Fiese, Barbara H.
HQ728.F32443 2004
306.85-dc22
2003049447

ISBN 1-4106-1030-6 Master e-book ISBN

To Helen and Adelle, and to the many generations


gone before and to come.
MWP
To all those who have shared and been part
of our family stories.
BHF

Contents

Preface
1 Families, Stories, and the Life Course: An Ecological Context
Michael W. Pratt and Barbara H. Fiese

xi
1

PART I: Child Narratives: Competence and Attachment


Development
2 Echoing Our Parents: Parental InXuences on Childrens
Narration
Carole Peterson and Allysa McCabe

27

3 Family Narratives and the Development of Childrens


Emotional Well-Being
Robyn Fivush, Jennifer Bohanek, Rachel Robertson,
and Marshall Duke

55

4 Coherence and Representations in Preschoolers Narratives:


Associations With Attachment in Infancy
Efrat Sher-Censor and David Oppenheim

77

5 Childrens Empathic Representations in Relation


to Early Caregiving Patterns Among Low-Income
African American Mothers
JoAnn Robinson and Michael Eltz

109

PART II: Adolescent Narratives: Identity Development


and Its Contexts
6 Adoption Narratives: The Construction of Adoptive Identity
During Adolescence
Nora Dunbar and Harold D. Grotevant

135

vii

viii

CONTENTS

7 Adolescents Representations of Parents Voices in Family


Stories: Value Lessons, Personal Adjustment, and Identity
Development
Mary Louise Arnold, Michael W. Pratt, and Cheryl Hicks

163

8 When Parents Stories Go to Pot: Telling Personal Transgressions


to Teenage Kids
Avril Thorne, Kate C. McLean, and Anna Dasbach

187

PART III: Young Adulthood: Intimacy and Relationship Narratives


9 Marital Attachment and Family Functioning: Use of Narrative
Methodology
Susan Dickstein

213

PART IV: Midlife: Parenting and Narrative Socialization


Processes in the Family
10

Generativity and the Narrative Ecology of Family Life


Dan P. McAdams

235

11 Pin-Curling Grandpas Hair in the Comfy Chair: Parents


Stories of Growing Up and Potential Links to Socialization
in the Preschool Years
Barbara H. Fiese and Nicole L. Bickham

259

12 The Cultural Context of Parent-Child Reminiscing:


A Functional Analysis
Qi Wang

279

13 Listening Is Active: Lessons From the Narrative Practices


of Taiwanese Families
Heidi Fung, Peggy J. Miller, and Lu-Chun Lin

303

PART V: Aging and Grandparenthood in Narrative


14 Telling Stories and Getting Acquainted: How Age Matters
Odette Gould

327

15 As Long as They Go Back Down the Driveway at the End


of the Day: Stories of the Satisfactions and Challenges
of Grandparenthood
Joan E. Norris, Stephanie Kuiack, and Michael W. Pratt

353

CONTENTS

16 Writing a Connection: Intergenerational Communication


Through Stories
Ellen Bouchard Ryan, Kristine A. Pearce, Ann P. Anas,
and Joan E. Norris

ix
375

PART VI: Conclusions and Future Directions


17

Metaphors and Meanings of Family Stories: Integrating Life


Course and Systems Perspectives on Narrative
Barbara H. Fiese and Michael W. Pratt

401

Author Index

419

Subject Index

433

Preface
This book tells the tale of recent psychological research and theory on family
stories. Family stories are broadly deWned as narrative accounts of personal
experiences that have meaning to individuals and to the family as a whole.
These chapters draw on work that focuses on the act of telling family stories,
as well as the content and coherence of family narratives. The process of telling
family stories is linked to central aspects of development, including language
acquisition, aVect regulation, and family interaction patterns. The messages
inherent in these stories serve to socialize children into gender roles, reinforce
moral lessons, consolidate identity, and connect generations. Thus the topic
of this book extends across traditional developmental psychology, personality
theory, and family studies.
Drawing broadly on the epigenetic framework for individual development
articulated by Erik Erikson, as well as on conceptions of the family life cycle
and the family as a dynamic system of interacting roles and relations, we
bring together contemporary examples of psychological research on family
stories and their implications for development and change at diVerent points
throughout the life course. The book is divided into sections that focus on
family stories at diVerent points in the life cycle, from early childhood, through
adolescence and identity formation, young adulthood and the establishment
of intimacy, midlife and parenting, and Wnally mature adulthood and its
intergenerational meaning in the roles of partner and grandparent. During
each of these periods of the life cycle, research focusing on individual development within an Eriksonian framework of ego strengths is highlighted.
The dynamic role of family stories is also featured here, with work exploring the links between storytelling, family process, intergenerational attachment, and development. We hope that our broad developmental focus can
serve to integrate the exciting diversity of this work, and foster further questions and research into the emerging Weld of family narrative.
Researchers use family narratives in a range of diVerent ways, and the
book attempts to illustrate the diversity of these analytic and conceptual
approaches. In early development, the research focus in much of the narrative
work on the family has been on childrens initial acquisition of narrative styles
xi

xii

P R E FAC E

and competencies as well as the development of attachment within the family


context. Work on adolescent and young adult narratives in the family has
often investigated stories as reXecting, even constituting, patterns of identity
and intimacy development during this crucial period of the life span. In
mid- and later adulthood, family stories have been explored as important in
the representation and transmission of family and personal values to children
and to the outside world. Both the process and the meaning of storytelling are
our central concerns. As well, the comparative cultural context of family storytelling is explored in several of the chapters.
Throughout the book, narratives also are central as a method for exploring
questions of individual and family development, as analyzed through the use
of a variety of both quantitative and qualitative methods. While the history
of this work in psychology is not long, the authors of these chapters are some
of the leading contemporary experts in the Weld of family narrative, and the
range of theoretical and methodological approaches here exempliWes the
potential of this rapidly expanding topic area.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As authors concerned with the dynamics of family stories, we must recognize,


more than most, the contributions of our own families to everything that we
have written here. Mike Pratt wishes to acknowledge the legacy of early family stories from his own parents and grandparents, Ted and Louise Pratt,
Carrie Ann Gibson, Florence and William Pratt, whose tales of earlier lives,
times and places meant much to his own sense of family, and nurtured a longlasting interest in family narratives that has spanned his career in the study of
developmental psychology. His wife and daughter, Helen and Adelle, have
helped him to continue and enrich this early legacy by bringing their own
lives into the scope of a new family, and he is grateful for their support and
care in all the work that he does. As this book goes to press, he welcomes a new
member, Bob Wickett, into his family as Adelles partner, undoubtedly the
source of many new tales and pleasures in extending the tapestry of his familys life.
Mike feels mentored and encouraged in this work by a variety of colleagues, most particularly by Philip and Carolyn Cowan, who have fostered
his interest in family research for many years, and provided him with opportunities to share these interests with them and their students, and by Dan
McAdams, whose research on generativity and on narrative has been a true
inspiration for him both before and throughout the work on this book. He

P R E FAC E

xiii

also thanks his long-time research collaborators, Bruce Hunsberger, Mark


Pancer, Joan Norris, and Mary Louise Arnold, for their support and collegiality in the undertakings that have led in these directions. Many students,
both graduate and undergraduate, over the years at Wilfrid Laurier have contributed much to this enterprise, and brought their own interests and questions to his family research. For all this, and the pleasures of learning together,
he thanks them.
Barbara recognizes the continued support from the Family Narrative Consortium: Arnold SameroV, Harold Grotevant, Frederick S. Wamboldt, Susan
Dickstein, and Deborah Fravel. Each in their own way, and through their own
stories, have provided invaluable opportunities to explore the multi-faceted
nature of family narratives and the encouragement to pursue this work. The
members of the Family Heritage Project, Nicole Bickham, Chris Chance,
Kimberly Howell, Kathleen Marjinsky, Gemma Skilllman, Tom Tomcho, and
John Wilder were exemplary in connecting with families and creating an
atmosphere of collaboration in the Family Research Lab. Countless undergraduates at Syracuse University have spent painstaking hours transcribing,
coding, and recoding family stories over the past several years. Barbara hopes
that they have gone on to create family stories of their own.
Finally, the opportunity to work with so many Wne chapter authors in
doing this book has made the sometimes taxing task of shepherding such an
edited undertaking a genuine pleasure. We also appreciate the faith in this
book shown by our editor at Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Bill Webber, and
the excellent support the staV at Erlbaum has provided during its production.
Michael W. Pratt
Barbara H. Fiese

1
Families, Stories, and the Life Course:
An Ecological Context
Michael W. Pratt
Wilfrid Laurier University

Barbara H. Fiese
Syracuse Unviersity
All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is
unhappy in its own way.
Tolstoy, War and Peace

This is a book about families and the stories they tell. Because all families are
unique, they each have their own distinctive stories (even the happy ones,
despite Tolstoys famous remark), stories that express the lives of their individual members, but that are also something more than simply the sum of
those individual lives. In this opening chapter, we trace a psychological perspective on how the stories of individuals and their families are intertwined
across the life course, setting this tale within the larger ecological context of
understanding that psychological research has begun to contribute to thinking about the family across the life course. In particular, we identify three
properties of stories that broaden our understanding of their role in family
development. First, story telling is an act, through the process of which children learn to become competent narrators. Second, stories also have a message, such that children and adults may receive valuable lessons from them,
often ones consistent with cultural mores. Finally, stories aid in the creation
of a personal identity that evolves over time and integrates lived experiences
with meaning-making processes. These three ideas are key elements in all of
the discussion that follows.
The chapter begins by addressing the family, and its ecological and developmental contexts in the human life cycle. We then turn to a discussion of
1

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

narrative as a way of thinking and knowing, and as a core element in the


individuals growth and change across the life course. Finally, we articulate
models of how the family and narrative intersect in development, and then
introduce the chapters to follow.

THE FAMILY AND ITS CONTEXTS

Bronfenbrenner (1979) Wrst clearly drew the attention of psychologists to the


fact that the individuals development is embedded in a widening circle of
environments and inXuences, from the most immediate settings of the childs
life to the broadest inXuences of the surrounding culture and society. These
broader inXuences, such as the legal system or societys socioeconomic institutions, act much more indirectly, because the child typically does not actually interact with their representatives. Their inXuence is instead felt through
the shaping that they exert with respect to the childs own personal microenvironments, of which the central one, particularly in early life, is the
family. In Jerome Bruners (1985) elegant image, parents and other guiding
adults represent the vicars of culture, who interpret for the child the wider
world, and bring him or her into societys byways.
In this sense, the family plays a pivotal role in socialization, as an intermediary between the individual and the wider cultural context. The family
provides the earliest physical and relational settings in which the child learns
to grasp the wider universe of objects and events, and the complexities of
human emotion and behavior. Parents and their children talk about everyday,
mundane family experiences, such as a trip to the park or a visit to grandparents, constructing accounts of what these experiences were like and what
they may mean (e.g., Fivush, 1994; McCabe & Peterson, 1991). Children
thus Wrst hear and ultimately learn to recount stories of their personal past in
the context of such family interactions. In this book, we aim to explore this
role of the family, and in particular, to study the ways that families are part of
the childs development of storytelling skills, of value acquisition, and the
socialization of beliefs and behavior.
Families are also the setting where much of individual development happens across the life course. While we readily acknowledge the role of the
family in the lives of the youngest generation, development occurs in all
family members, throughout the life course (e.g., Baltes, 1987). In this sense,
families serve as a place for the individual to Wnd and explore new senses of
the self and others at all ages, from early childhood into late adulthood. Family stories are one way in which individuals connect across generations and

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

create a sense of family history and identity (Martin, Hagestad, & Diedrick,
1988). Families are thus stage, company, and audience for us all across the life
cycle, and stories are an intimate part of that process. So Shakespeares Hamlet, the prototype for humankinds identity search (Bloom, 1998), as he dies
asks Horatio to tell of his life, bound as it is so intensely to his own troubled
family history: Things standing thus unknown shall live behind me. If thou
didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from felicity awhile, and in this
harsh world draw thy breath in pain, to tell my story. In this book, we want
to describe how families support, guide, or sometimes stiXe, the growth of
their members and their personal sense of self and identity, through the
stories they share and shape.
Families are distinctive in another way from other ecological inXuences in
the individuals life, not only as a special place, but also across time. Of all the
relationships into which the individual child enters, the bonds of the family
are most enduring. The relationships we have with kin are complex and
variable, but they are also life-long and indeed enduring across generations;
families are the places where these enduring bonds grow, develop, and are
often tested. We may choose and then reject our friends, our associates, even
our spouses, but the bonds of parents and children, or those of siblings, even
if troubled, are not so voluntary or so easily discarded, as Shakespeares King
Lear Wnds to his sorrow (and ultimately, relief ). In the midst of trying to
disown his children, Lear reminds us how impossible this really is to do:
How sharper than a serpents tooth it is to have a thankless child. Families
endure, even as they come to include new members through birth, adoption,
marriage or remarriage, and their perspectives and stances with respect to
the wider world may echo across the generations in the kinds of stories they
tell to new members (e.g., Fiese, Hooker, Kotary, Schwagler, & Rimmer,
1995). In this book, we explore these intergenerational functions of family
stories too.
The Ecological Context of the Family

In understanding and elaborating the role of the family in lifespan development, we will Wnd it useful to take a systems perspective. Parke and Buriel
(1998) make the valuable point that such a perspective leads us to a consideration of both the overlapping sets of dyadic relationships (e.g., parent-child,
marital, sibling) that are the building blocks of the family, and also of the
entire family unit per se, and its possible eVects on the lives of individual
family members. To date, however, most family research has concentrated on
roles and (at most) dyadic relationships, and has neglected to explore ways in

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

which the family as a whole may be characterized, and may serve to inXuence
individual child and adult development (Norris, Pratt, & Kuiack, 2003).
Reiss (1989) is one theorist who has directed attention to this issue. He has
suggested the importance of the role of family paradigms, myths, stories, and
rituals, each of which represent ways through which the family organizes and
communicates perceptions of the world to its members. For example, families
may have particular traditions or routines for daily events, such as dinnertime
or bedtime, and these routines may include special stories or rituals. These
family processes convey important and enduring views and values about how
the world should be understood, and these views and values may be passed
down through the generations as a result of such family interaction (Fiese,
Wilder, & Bickham, 2000; Parke & Buriel, 1998). Though our focus in this
book is speciWcally on family stories, it seems obvious that Reisss various constructs are overlapping, and that stories are embedded within family rituals,
like sharing meals or bedtime, and serve to convey family belief systems.
As noted, the family micro-system (to use Bronfenbrenners term) is itself
surrounded by wider social contexts that inXuence the developing individual,
both directly and indirectly, through their roles in inXuencing the familys
other members (Bronfenbrenner, 1979), all the way up to the broadest, cultural factors that shape the individual and the family through basic values and
views (the macrosystem). Several of the chapters in the current volume
focus on what may be conveyed about the self and the world in diVerent cultures through the kinds of stories that families tell and the storytelling patterns in which they engage (see chapters 12 and 13).
How are these various ecological levels involved in shaping family stories?
McAdams (2001) argues that individual life stories, which in his theory are
the core components of identity at least in modern societies, are constructed
based on the shaping context and resources provided by the wider culture.
Thus, one of the commonest of life stories available in North American society is an individual success script, the rags to riches, self-made millionaire
of Sunday morning telemarketing fame. In a broader sense, such an individualism theme has been a pervasive strain in American culture for centuries
(e.g., Bellah, Madsen, Sullivan, Swidler, & Tipten, 1985), and individuals
may readily adapt it in recounting their own life histories. The Bronfenbrenner ecological model indicates, however, that intermediate levels such as the
family and the subculture will likely be important in this process of formulating the individual life story as well (e.g., McGoldrick, Heiman, & Carter,
1993), through the mediating role they play in individual socialization as
embedded in the wider society. So, for example, grandchildren may, with
pride and a sense of family connection, tell stories of the ambitious and

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

resourceful immigrant generations that preceded them and widened their


current opportunities (Hilbers, 1997).
Cultural-Historical Context of the Life Course
and the Family

As Erikson (1963) recognized, the human life cycle has a basic, evolutionarily constructed pattern that is built into the ground plan of our species (obviously shared generally with other mammals, see Hrdy, 1999). Children are
born dependent and in need of extensive care. If they receive this care, they
grow toward puberty, and sexual and reproductive maturity. After a period of
adult reproductive potential, their fertility is over or reduced, and they ultimately reach old age and death. This basic, if stark, outline is biologically
guided and universal, and it entails the central role of the family (or at least
some caretaker) in enabling the childs growth and development. However, it
was also Eriksons (1963) genius to acknowledge, much more than his mentor Freud, the richness and complexity of ways in which human social life,
itself sprung from this biological potential, can organize the processes of
development across the life cycle.
Eriksons (1963) well-known model of eight stages in the individuals life
course is closely keyed to the developmental history of the family. The initial
Wve stages constitute a Wrst, childhood act in this play of life, with scenes
depicting the struggle of trust versus mistrust, autonomy versus shame, initiative versus guilt, industry versus inferiority, and identity versus confusion.
These are enacted typically within the family of our birth. The second act,
consisting of scenes of intimacy versus alienation, generativity versus stagnation, and integrity versus despair, takes place within the context of a more
extended and reconstituted family during the long period of human adulthood. Erikson (1963) described, with an anthropologists appreciative eye,
the ways in which diVerent cultures patterned these basic building blocks of
the human life span diVerently, and sought to trace the possible implications
of such diVerences.
Interestingly, the ways in which these stages or periods of the life course are
marked also appear to have been historically variable. In the past century, for
example, the average human life span in technologically developed countries
has increased substantially (perhaps 2025 years), and this change, along with
many other cultural and societal changes, has had a large inXuence on how
scholars (and others) describe the life course. The terminology of development in later life has thus become increasingly diVerentiated as researchers
have pursued these questions (e.g., into young-old versus old-old, Smith &

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

Baltes, 1997). Similarly, the transition from adolescence to adulthood has


been lengthening in modern societies, due to vocational and technological
changes, and a new period of emerging adulthood has recently been suggested (Arnett, 2000).
What are the implications of such historical changes for the intergenerational family? As adults live longer, family ties of course become more
enduring as well as complex, but they generally do not seem to be weakening.
Putney and Bengtson (2001), writing about midlife and the family, conclude:
Findings from empirical research show that while families are more diverse
in structure and process, intergenerational attachments remain strong. Our
review here suggests that individuals need the solidarity of the multigenerational family and will go to great eVorts to preserve it (pp. 562563). We
believe that stories can play a central role in establishing and maintaining
these family bonds, and some of the chapters in this volume are testimony to
the ways in which researchers are attempting to study these intergenerational
issues (e.g., chapters 11, 15, and 16).
Practicing and Representing Aspects of the Family

Fiese et al. (2000), drawing on the work of Reiss (1989), have articulated a
key distinction between the practicing and representing aspects of family life.
These two concepts are meant to capture the contrast between the familys
behavioral interactions, on the one hand, and the beliefs of its members that
both shape and respond to these practices, on the other. These two aspects of
family life are seen as mutually interactive and transactional in a dynamic
sense. However, they are exempliWed for research purposes by contrasting
types of constructs, notably family rituals in the case of practices, and family stories for beliefs (Reiss, 1989; SameroV & Fiese, 2000).
Despite this clear and useful conceptual divide, it is apparent that the
study of these two aspects of family life can each involve both practicing and
representing aspects. For example, family rituals, such as dinnertime, involve
ongoing, patterned social interactions that serve to stabilize the family and
provide meanings and expectancies for its members. These practicing aspects
of dinnertime rituals also can be studied in terms of the beliefs and values of
the familys members regarding their structure and purposes (e.g., Fiese &
Marjinsky, 1999). Most germane to the current volume, family stories have
both representing and practicing characteristics (Fiese et al., 1999). The content, themes, and coherence of speciWc family stories may be studied as reXective of the familys view of the world and its values and expectations for its
members (SameroV & Fiese, 2000). The process of a storys actual telling may

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

also be studied, as a practicing aspect of the family, and this may reXect much
about the interpersonal climate and relationships within the family. Stories
are always for someone, as McAdams (1999) points out, always inherently
social and dialogical, like other aspects of discourse (e.g., Bakhtin, 1981), and
the ways in which they are negotiated between family tellers and listeners
are revealing and important to examine. For example, there may be cultural
diVerences in the extent to which young children are expected to be attentive
listeners, with Asian parents more likely than their North American counterparts to tell stories of moral lessons to the young child. These cultural differences may be construed as reXecting diVerent conceptions of the child
listener across these cultures, which in turn translate into diVerent associated
parental storytelling practices (chapter 13, this volume).
Fiese et al. (2000) go on to describe how the practicing and representing aspects of the family are instantiated at the various levels of the family discussed
above. Marital, parent-child, and sibling dyads, as well as triadic connections
within the boundaries of the family, all have both behavioral and representational aspects that have been studied in family research. For example, at the
level of triadic interaction, marital alliances in husbands and wives, as well as
parent-child alliances, have been compared during videotapes of dinnertimes
(Vuchinich, Emery, & Cassidy, 1988), indicating that mothers and fathers are
more likely to side with each other than with children, overall. The importance of these kinds of triadic relationship patterns is suggested by the work of
Katz and Gottman (1995), who found that families in which husbands tend
to withdraw from conXicts with their wives also tend to exhibit more intrusive
mother-child interactions and associated higher levels of child problems.
McHale further calls to our attention how mothers and fathers create co-parenting alliances that can either support healthy child emotional development
or disrupt the family system as a whole (McHale & Rasmussen, 1998).
As suggested by Parke and Buriel (1998), the whole-family level is crucial to conceptualize and understand, in addition to these multiple interactive
levels of the dyad and the triad within the family unit. Family rituals and stories are valuable ways of investigating this broadest level of analysis (Fiese
et al., 2000). Thus, family stories may vary in content as well as in their
coherence and depiction of the social world. For example, Oppenheim,
Wamboldt, Gavin, Renouf, and Emde (1996) showed that couples whose
conjoint narratives of their childs birth were more emotionally coherent and
expressive subsequently showed greater levels of marital satisfaction. Given
what we know of the couple system and the family, these family-level representations might be expected to be linked to child adaptation as well (Cowan,
Powell, & Cowan, 1998).

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

Despite the fact that rituals and stories are useful and important as indicators of whole family patterns and meanings, it also seems clear that they can
be studied with respect to dyadic or triadic aspects of family relationships,
and be informative in that regard. For example, a number of studies have now
investigated the relations between childrens narrative representations of the
parents caregiving and childrens own adaptation. It has been shown, for
example, that young childrens stories of the mother as responsive are associated with fewer behavioral problems in the child (Oppenheim, Nir, Warren,
& Emde, 1997; Sher-Censor & Oppenheim, chapter 4, this volume), and
that adolescents greater openness to their parents perspectives or voices in
stories of parent-child value teaching is associated with better subsequent
adjustment and a clearer sense of identity (e.g., chapter 7, this volume). Such
parent-child research reXects the fact that stories can be used to explore the
entire gamut of family relationships and their implications for growth and
development. There has also been considerable research on couple stories and
their relations to child outcomes (e.g., Fiese & Marjinsky, 1999). Interestingly, however, there has been little work on siblings stories and their potential implications to date. Also, current research in this domain as in others too
often has been focused on mothers, and has failed to investigate the stories
told by fathers (Cowan, 1999; Parke & Buriel, 1998).

STORIES AND THE INDIVIDUAL LIFE CYCLE

So far, we have used the term narrative loosely and quite interchangeably
with respect to the everyday term stories. In this section, we provide more
context for the deWnition of narrative, as a particular modality of human
thought (Bruner, 1986), and explain its background in recent theory and
research within the Weld of psychology.
Understanding Narrative

Bruner (1986, 1990) has made a key distinction between diVerent ways of
knowing or thinking in human experience, contrasting the paradigmatic
mode, on the one hand, with the narrative mode on the other. Bruner
argued that these two distinctive ways of thinking are both widely available
to humans, yet are fundamentally distinct and not reduceable to one other.
Paradigmatic thinking is exempliWed by classiWcation of objects or events as
Wtting within a particular category; such thinking about these objects or
events (e.g., an orange) is governed by category membership, and all examples

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

within the categories are treated as equivalent based on this shared property
(Polkinghorne, 1996). This sort of paradigmatic cognitive activity allows the
individual to draw upon general knowledge and reasoning skills based in
abstract formulations about object properties (e.g., the skins of such fruits
need to be peeled before they are eaten). The criteria by which such reasoning
is evaluated include systematic logic and truthfulness, or correspondence
with a shared, objectiWed reality (Bruner, 1990).
In contrast, the narrative mode treats individual experiences as unique historical events, and involves thinking about these events in terms of their
organization into meaningful temporal episodes based on human motives or
intentions, actions, and outcomes. These organizations in time are the prototypic plots for understanding everyday human activity, and for stories of
such activity, which children learn very early to grasp through the development of a gradually elaborated theory of mind in interpreting the behavior
of others (McAdams, 2001). Intentional human actions are thus seen as categorically distinct from the bodys physical movements, even by the youngster
of 4 or 5 (Smith, 1978). It is the meaningful gestalt of such events that
forms the basis for reasoning about them in the narrative mode, implying that
they have a particular order and organization, and that they are linked
through the intentional quality of human activity (Polkinghorne, 1996). The
criteria for evaluating such narrative knowing are quite diVerent from those
for paradigmatic reasoning, involving plausibility and coherence as aspects of
a good story, instead of logic and truth (Bruner, 1990).
These characteristics of the narrative mode of knowing mean that stories
and narratives are not simple reproductions of personal life experiences, but
rather are reconstructions of the past, through the use of interpretive plots
that are adapted from the repertoire of stories available and learned from the
culture (Polkinghorne, 1996). Interestingly, the forms for understanding
intention and everyday activities may diVer in some respects across cultures,
as work on the theory of mind in diVerent cultural contexts suggests (e.g.,
Vinden, 1996). If this is so, then available story plots or forms may diVer for
diVerent cultures, and families may play an important role in displaying these
cultural modalities to the developing individual (Miller, 1994). Narratives
also reXect past events in the light of current understandings and interpretations of their meanings and outcomes. In other words, narrative knowing as
a process is in some deep sense a creative act, and involves the possibility of
reconstruction of personal experiences diVerently at diVerent points in the
life course, depending on the individuals perspective and maturity (Polkinghorne, 1996). For example, Pratt, Norris, Arnold, and Filyer (1999), following earlier work by McAdams, Diamond, St. Aubin, & MansWeld (1997) on

10

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

the generativity script in midlife, reported that highly generative adults


across the life span commonly tell life stories that are seen as much more positive and redemptive in current telling than they were during their original
experience. And, as the enduring popularity of Dickens A Christmas Carol
attests, life stories with these redemptive types of structures were preferred
over those of other types by a panel of uninstructed raters (Pratt et al., 1999).
Past Psychological Research on Narrative

McAdams (2001) has reviewed the history of narrative research in the Weld of
personality psychology, documenting how the concept of life stories moved
from the position of an exotic, somewhat speculative backwater earlier in the
20th century, to a dynamic and much more central position within the Weld
in the 1980s and 1990s. As he notes, this transformation in the role of narrative was paralleled in many other areas of psychology, such as clinical and
developmental, and indeed in the broader domains of history and the social
sciences as well (e.g., Habermas & Bluck, 2000). For example, there has been
a 500% increase in the use of narrative as a keyword when comparing citations in the psychological literature from 19912001 to 19801990. The
idea of narrative, with its focus on the historical life context, and the construction of an individual narrators perspective or voice, has become a
potential post-modern grounding metaphor for the Welds of the human sciences as a whole (Sarbin, 1986).
As a part of this program of work, new narrative theories of individual
development have been advanced, particularly by Hermanns (1996) and by
McAdams (2001). Hermanns (1996) framework emphasizes the dialogical
nature of the self, that it is constructed from multiple life stories and
voices that are constantly in dialogue and response with one another, as the
person seeks to interpret the diverse experiences of the past across many contexts. These ideas are similar to Gergens (1992) model of the self as shifting
and in Xux, as meaning in the postmodern world is not in the text itself,
but relative and constantly renegotiated by the listener and speaker. Consequently, the self is understood as dialogical in nature, and is not seen as a
unitary, coherent whole.
McAdamss (2001) most recent formulation of his theory provides a comprehensive overview of the development of narrative skills in childhood
toward the core of modern identity formation, the life story, in adolescence
and young adulthood. This life story is for McAdams the center of the individuals personality, which serves to give coherence and meaning to the adults
sense of self. While McAdams (2001) accepts that there is a degree of ongoing

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

11

revision and change in the life story, he is more sanguine about the possibilities of formulating a unitary, coherent identity across the diverse experiences
and contexts of life than many of the post-modern theorists such as Gergen
(1992) or Hermanns (1996). In the next section, we follow McAdams (2001)
outline in discussing the development of narrative capacities in the individuals life context.
Narrative and the Life Course

Important cognitive developments provide the constituents that enable narrative skills to grow and develop across the life course. During the Wrst 2 years
of life, as Piaget (1970) documented, infants symbolic capacities develop
markedly, and their capacity to understand and represent the self emerges as
well. Toward the end of the second year, with the emergence of language and
its implications for memory, a capacity for a personalized autobiographical
memory begins to develop (Howe & Courage, 1997). Over the course of the
next several years, parents and other adults help children learn to formulate
stories of their past experiences for telling, and generate a limited sense of
the self and its past through these processes. Based in these interchanges with
parents and the print and visual media of books, television, now the Internet
as well, children also become acquainted with the conventional forms of
stories in our culture, with orderly elements or episodes that involve a problem, attempts to deal with it, and an outcome or ending (Mandler, 1984).
Children come to rely on such structures in processing and remembering
their own and others experiences, and Wnd that information that diverges
from this framework is more diYcult to store and remember. Many other
developments, such as childrens understanding of the goals and intentions of
others, are also critical during the preschool and early school years, as documented through study of the emergence of the theory of mind in childhood
(e.g., Wellman, 1993). Everyday storytelling activities are also a medium for
socializing perspective taking, critical thinking, and other intellectual
achievement prior to the onset of formal schooling (Ochs, Taylor, Rudolph,
& Smith, 1992). Indeed, the ways in which cultures support storytelling
prior to formal schooling suggest its central role in cognitive development in
the formative early years (RogoV & Toma, 1997). These core elements of the
autobiographical memory system have been called personal event memories
(Pillemer, 1998).
Despite these important cognitive advances, however, the capacity to represent the self through a complex life story that traces personal memories within
the context of an autobiography still is not readily apparent until adolescence

12

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

(Habermas & Bluck, 2000). It is only with the development of cognitive


capacities for formulating systematic causal explanations that link inner qualities of the self and past events and experiences that a personal life story can
develop. For example, adolescents for the Wrst time become capable of understanding an inner self that is distinct from its outer behaviors, and that such
inner qualities can provide thematic coherence which links together superWcially diVerent behaviors in a complex and systematic way (e.g., Selman,
1980). Advances in socio-cognitive capacities are thus seen as necessary for
development of a life story in adolescence (Grotevant, 1993; Habermas &
Bluck, 2000; McAdams, 2001).
Throughout the extended period of midlife and adulthood, the personal
life story continues to be elaborated and extended, as the individual, to some
degree, reworks and re-visions experiences to Wt current concerns and issues,
particularly those focused around identity issues (McAdams, 2001). Contrary
to the emphasis in Eriksons (1963) original formulations, identity in modern
societies continues to be a matter of importance and concern across the life
course, rather than being settled by young adulthood. Peoples life stories
are likely to be highly variable, but some evidence suggests that the coherence
of the life story may continue to develop even into mature adulthood, perhaps through practice and systematic experiences of the retelling of central
life events to others (e.g., Kemper, 1992; Pratt & Robins, 1991).

FAMILIES AND STORIES:


AN INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP

In this section, we turn from the individuals development to an examination


of the place of narrative within the family life cycle, and consider what some
of the most important questions and issues may be that family narrative
research can address, as well as the role of the wider culture in relation to family narrative. Finally, we discuss the various ways in which narratives have
been used so far in family research.
In thinking about the role of family in relation to narrative across the life
course, and within the culture, we have been guided by two distinct perspectives on individual development: the epigenetic framework of Erikson (1963)
and the sociocultural framework of Vygotsky (1978). While the Eriksonian
view is relatively familiar, and was described earlier in this chapter, the second
perspective may be less generally known. Vygotsky and others in his Russian
sociocultural school (e.g., Bakhtin, 1981) viewed development as a social process of the individual child adapting interpersonal interactions with others,

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

13

especially adults, to private, intrapersonal cognitive ends (Wertsch, 1991).


Vygotskys most elaborated application of his theory was to language and its
role in thinking. Thus, he held that the child Wrst learns to communicate
interpersonally with others, and then gradually adapts this social process to
the service of his or her own internal thinking and cognitive self-regulation.
The self as thinker becomes both speaker and addressee in a fundamentally
dialogical relationship, Wrst in the private speech phenomenon of talking
aloud to the self in the preschool years, and later as the inner speech, or
covert verbal thought of maturity (Vygotsky, 1978). We believe this sociocultural framework is of interest across the life course with regard to narrative
and its development.
Stories and the Study of the Family Life Cycle

In Eriksons (1968) conception, identity is the central element in life course


development, joining childhood and adulthood through the gateway of adolescence. In such a metaphor, the family becomes the key element of the
wider Weld on which this gateway is constructed. McAdamss theory (2001),
as discussed earlier, grounds identity development, in the Eriksonian sense,
through the development of a personal life story during adolescence and
young adulthood. During childhood, the young person Wrst becomes skilled
in telling stories about personal experiences within the nurturing conWnes of
the family, through the supportive activities of parents, who encourage the
child to practice and develop these skills through shared recountings of past
experiences (e.g., Fivush, 1994). However, it is not until adolescence that
these sorts of personal event memories become organized into a coherent
life story (Habermas & Bluck, 2000). And even into later life, the family
retains its central importance in life narratives (Coleman, Ivani-Chalian, &
Robinson 1998). Here we trace the familys role in these major developments.
Childhood for Erikson (1963) represents the period when a basic sense
of self and of relationships, and a variety of skills important to the culture,
Wrst must be acquired. As noted, one of the most important of these skills
is narrative, as the child learns to tell about, and indeed, to create, an autobiographical past through the experience of joint storytelling with the parent
about his or her own everyday experiences (Fivush, 1994; McCabe & Peterson, 1991). The social context of this activity is centrally important, as the
parent or guiding adult initially provides almost complete scaVolding of the
young childs verbal memories, as Fivush and McCabe and Peterson have
demonstrated. Consistent with the ideas of the sociocultural perspective on
development (RogoV, Baker-Sennett, Lacasa, & Goldsmith, 1995; Vygotsky,

14

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

1978), the child gradually acquires the skills to tell about personal experiences
by adapting the parental supports of this social context to his or her own individual narrative eVorts. In essence, this process suggests that the child internalizes the parents guiding and organizing model for retelling, and makes it
his or her own. This retelling also may aid in the construction of the family
story as a condensed and complex marker for family beliefs and values. Variability in mother-child dyads in how this is carried out suggests that family
environments may shape some diVerences in the patterning of this skill with
implications for the childs own later narrative development (e.g., Peterson &
McCabe, 1994; chapter 2, this volume).
From the sociocultural perspective, then, families are the mediators of culture (Bruner, 1985), and they can be expected to foster diVering patterns and
styles of storytelling within the context of family life (e.g., Miller, 1994;
Wang, 2001). For example, Chinese parents are more likely to utilize shared
family narratives as an opportunity to teach lessons to the child, whereas
North American families are likely to emphasize instead the childs creativity
and autonomy in these family stories (Miller, Wiley, Fung, & Liang, 1997).
The broad distinction between a more collective and a more individuated
self in maturity across cultures (Markus & Kitayama, 1991) may be to some
degree reXected in and traceable to these diVerent patterns of narrative interaction in childhood.
Adolescence and young adulthood are the key periods for the acquisition
of a sense of identity, which involves both an understanding of the self
through time and of the self s distinctiveness from others (Erikson, 1968).
These two components of identity serve to create both temporal and personal
coherence within modern adulthood. The individual life story, according to
McAdams (2001), provides these critical elements of identity in modern societies. The personal life events that young children have learned to recall
through experiences with parents now become integrated into a larger, coherent life story. As Thorne (2000) points out, however, these narratives are fundamentally interpersonal, being told and retold for others as the individual
seeks to construct a sense of self in a social world. Again, then, the essentially
social nature of these developments is highlighted, consistent with the sociocultural perspective.
Is the family in some sense a key setting for this development? Certainly a
consensus has developed that one of the essential tasks for the adolescent in
North American culture is to establish a sense of autonomy or independence,
while simultaneously maintaining a sense of connectedness to parents and the
extended family (Grotevant & Cooper, 1998). Adolescents stories of important issues in their lives commonly involve family relationships, as well as

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

15

peers, and as noted, adolescents typically tell these life stories to families or
friends, who collaborate in the co-construction of these stories as they are told
and re-told (Grotevant, Dunbar, Kohler, & Esau, 2000; Thorne, 2000).
Indeed, stories of the family dominate mid-adolescents descriptions of key
turning points in their lives (Mackey, Arnold, & Pratt, 2001).
Are there cultural diVerences in the familys role in the formation of the life
story? There is certainly evidence that parents in some cultures are less likely
to be engaged as listeners to their childrens talk than those in other cultures
(e.g., SchieVelen, 1990). It would seem likely that there are variations in the
ways in which parents respond to their adolescents recountings of life events,
in terms of how the self is to be construed as more or less autonomous or
embedded in family relationships, as noted previously for cross-cultural
research on childhood, though we are not aware of such work on adolescents
to date.
The long period of adulthood and maturity within the human life cycle,
largely ignored by Freud in a developmental sense, was described by Erikson
as involving a sequence of three distinct stages: intimacy, generativity, and ego
integrity. The construction of a new family and the relationships that this
engenders in the individuals life are key elements in personal development in
the midlife period, and these networks of family continue to increase in some
ways in complexity as individuals grow older and further intergenerational
links develop. Indeed, midlife adults may play a central role in fostering such
linkages across generations within the family (Putney & Bengtson, 2001).
Contemporary research on the intergenerational stake in relations of the
family in Western societies at least suggests that older adults have a particularly strong investment in solidarity across the generations, as opposed to the
adolescent and young adult individuals stronger investment in establishing
personal autonomy (Putney & Bengtson, 2001). Concomitant with this,
older adults in mid- and later life, particularly women, are often the kinkeepers of the family, investing considerable time and energy in maintaining
family relationships and connections (Oliveri & Reiss, 1987). Is this role particularly associated with family storytelling? We do not know, but both men
and women in later life are prone to discuss the family as the central continuity in their life stories (Coleman et al., 1998). And, as Pratt and Norris (1999)
have noted, the life stories of older adults are often given coherence by their
sense of having learned important lessons from a more mature family member or other adult Wgure from their earlier lives.
What is known about culture diVerences in the role of the family in later
life, and its impact on the life story? There is certainly indication that the
status of older adults within the society and the family varies considerably

16

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

across cultures and over historical time (e.g., Hareven, 1977). It seems likely
that this may be associated with diVerent messages within these cultures that
have distinct implications for the treatment and functioning of older adult
family members. For example, Ryan (e.g., 1991) has shown, in her work on
the communication predicament model of aging in North American cultures, that everyday discourse and forms of address with the elderly are
exquisitely sensitive to these sorts of social status issues. Older adults in nursing homes are typically addressed with baby talk, in ways that appear to
outsiders both warm and at the same time demeaning and that may undermine these adults sense of competence. It seems likely that these practices
may be quite diVerent in some Asian cultures, characterized by stronger
norms of Wlial piety (Levy & Langer, 1994). In what ways might this be reXected in the stories told by and about the oldest family members of diVerent
societies? Though little has been done on this topic, this question promises to
be of interest for future study.
The Multiple Roles of Family Stories in Research

Stories play a number of diVerent roles in the research that makes up this
book, and in the Weld of psychology in general. The role of narratives as a
research tool varies on a continuum of centrality, from their use as simply
one of a number of techniques for obtaining data on aspects of individual
motivation or personality, to a theory-driven conception of their role as a
central component in the individuals or familys sense of identity (McAdams et al., 1997). In this section, we brieXy review three important uses
of narrative that can be documented in previous research, as well as in the
chapters of the present volume: narratives as method, as medium, and as
meaning-making.
Historically, narratives were Wrst used as methods of obtaining information
on various aspects of individuals personalities and qualities. In the tradition
of this sort of research (e.g., McClelland, 1961), people are asked to tell
stories in response to a stimulus (such as an ambiguous Wgure) or about a
personal life event, and then these stories are coded as revealing a range of different levels of some quality (e.g., level of intimacy or achievement motivation). In such work, the use of narrative as a method is less focal, and stories
are not conceived as playing any special or unique role in the development or
personality of the individual, but perhaps as simply reXecting one mode of
everyday thinking and communication which can be revealing of the individuals personal qualities. Of course, stories about the family also can be used
in just such a manner, as a way of exploring the family members or relation-

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

17

ships characteristic qualities or dynamics, and such usage continues to be an


important research strength.
Stories can also be studied as an important medium of socialization within
social groups, and perhaps particularly within families. Because narrative is a
universal mode of communication about everyday events, storytelling is often
an important practice in the lives of families (Fiese et al., 1999). Parents tell
stories to their children about their own past experiences, and they teach children, collaboratively, to develop the skills of telling and retelling stories about
their own current experiences, as we noted earlier (see also Fivush, 1994). Following Reiss (1989), the ways in which stories are told and shared in the
family are an important aspect of practicing, and can reXect interesting variations in the style of family life and relationships (e.g., Fiese et al., 1999;
Gould & Dixon, 1993). Of course, the kinds of stories told, speciWcally differences in story content, can also tell us about the representing aspects of
family life. For example, males and females may select diVerent kinds of stories to tell their sons and daughters about their past family experiences (Fiese
et al., 1995; Pratt, Arnold, & Hilbers, 1998), and these diVerences may
reXect broader issues in gender socialization within the culture.
Finally, stories clearly represent the individuals eVorts at meaning-making.
The act of story telling requires that the teller describe a set of experienced
events for the audience, as well as taking a stance regarding the evaluation and
implications of these events, even, perhaps, a stance that necessarily carries
moral implications (e.g., Tappan, 1991). Furthermore, stories are seen by
many narrative theorists as the mechanism by which individuals constitute a
sense of the self and its identity (e.g., Gergen, 1992; McAdams, 2001). As
noted, McAdams theory explicitly recognizes this role of the life story in
modern society, as providing the developing adolescent or young adult with
a sense of personhood that is at the core of personality (McAdams, 2001).
Individuals are seen as drawing on the cultural reservoir of stories to provide
elements from which the persons sense of self is constructed. Thus, the self
as reXected in these life stories would be expected to diVer across diVerent cultures (e.g., Miller et al., 1997; Wang, 2001).
This constitutive function for stories with respect to individual identity
has its parallels within the context of the family. Families can be said to have
their own identities too, and family stories serve as an important way of
communicating, negotiating, and re-negotiating that identity among their
members. Families are a central audience for their individual members, and
their representations within personal stories can be revealing of individual
and family functioning. For example, Thorne (2000) has argued that important personal memories are always social in fundamental respects, in that they

18

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

are not generally kept to the self, but shared with family or close friends.
These remembered tellings are often linked to the personal memory itself, but
also register novel understandings and meanings that reXect distinctive audience reactions. At any rate, the role of the family as audience, as stage, and
sometime as director for the retellings of personal memories is implicit in
many of the chapters that follow.

THE CHAPTERS IN THIS VOLUME

Shakespeare, in As You Like It, described the life course as seven acts (All the
worlds a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their
exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts
being seven ages.) Simplifying the bard a little, though always a risky proposition, the story of family narrative told in this volume is organized into six
sections, following loosely the life and role course of the individual through
the family system: childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, mid-life and
parenthood, later life and grandparenthood, and Wnally a more integrative
coda that summarizes and comments on the preceding chapters, and extends
the prospects for future research.
In Part I, on childhood, our authors focus on the development of both
linguistic and social competence. Carole Peterson and Allysa McCabe (chapter 2) describe their research on the ways that parents appear to be involved
in young childrens acquisition of narrative competence. Robyn Fivush and
her colleagues (chapter 3) then discuss research on family narrative processes
and childrens adaptation, both in linguistic and especially in social modalities. Sher-Censor and David Oppenheims chapter (chapter 4) focuses on preschool childrens social attachment development and its relation to narratives.
Finally, JoAnn Robinson and Michael Eltz (chapter 5) describe how more
standardized narrative data, drawn from the MacArthur Story Stem battery
widely used in the attachment literature, can be used to explore the relations
between patterns of early care giving in impoverished families and childrens
subsequent empathic and agonistic representations of relationships at age 6.
In Part II, covering adolescence and young adulthood, three chapters focus
on adolescent narratives and the central issues of identity development within
the context of the family. Nora Dunbar and Hal Grotevant (chapter 6) report
narratively based research on identity development in early to middle adolescence for a large sample of adopted children. Mary Louise Arnold and colleagues (chapter 7) then describe methods and conceptualizations of older
adolescents representations of their parents views and voices in their stories,

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

19

and the ways these are related to adolescent adaptation and identity over
time. Finally, Avril Thorne and her colleagues (chapter 8) report on a study of
a particular context, parents decisions about how to discuss their own past
drug usage with their teenage children, and the ways that both adolescent and
parent identity issues may surface and interact in these decisions.
Part III focuses on the issues of intimacy and romantic relationship development, highlighted in chapter 9 by Susan Dickstein, which draws on the
attachment perspective to examine narrative measures and approaches to the
investigation of marital and couple functioning in conjunction with individual attachment.
Following this, Part IV includes four chapters that examine parenting and
socialization processes from a narrative perspective during the midlife period
of adult development. This section begins with a chapter by Dan McAdams
(chapter 10) on the Eriksonian construct of generativity and its family and
wider societal implications. This is followed by a chapter on parents stories of
their own families of origin and their potential role in socialization processes
within the young family by Barbara Fiese and Nicole Bickham (chapter 11).
Two chapters then cover the cross-cultural literature on parent-child joint
story telling (and listening) and their possible implications for cultural patterns of diVerences between North American and Chinese societies. Chapter
12, by Qi Wang, focuses on the possible diVerential socialization of memory
functions across cultures that may be rooted in variations in early parentchild dialogue. Heidi Fung and her associates (chapter 13) then discuss East
West cultural diVerences in the pervasive but neglected role of child listener.
Part V covers the role of older adults family narratives, both within the
couple relationship and in the context of grandparenting. Chapter 14, by
Odette Gould, describes a cognitive perspective on aging and narrative function in the context of couple and wider social interaction. Chapter 15, by
Joan Norris and associates, discusses functions of grandparent narratives in
family socialization processes, as well as the role of generativity within this
later period of the life course. Ellen Ryan and her associates (chapter 16) then
describe work on the functions and processes of intergenerational story writing that bridges the grandparent and grandchild generations.
The Wnal chapter, by Barbara Fiese and Michael Pratt (chapter 17), is a
summary and discussion of the previous chapters in the context of two key
questions: What do family stories tell us about personal development, and
what do narratives tell us about families and the family system? We attempt
a beginning integration of life course and systems perspectives on narrative
in the family, and suggest some directions for future work in this burgeoning Weld.

20

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Preparation of this manuscript was supported, in part, by a grant from the


Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, and by the
University Research Professorship Award from Wilfrid Laurier University for
20012002 to the Wrst author. The authors thank Bruce Hunsberger for his
comments on an earlier draft.

REFERENCES
Arnett, J. J. (2000). Emerging adulthood: A theory of development from the late teens through
the twenties. American Psychologist, 55, 469480.
Bakhtin, M. (1981). The dialogic imagination. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press.
Baltes, P. B. (1987). Theoretical propositions of life-span developmental psychology: On the
dynamics between growth and decline. Developmental Psychology, 23, 611626.
Bellah, R., Madsen, R., Sullivan, W., Swidler, A., & Tipten, S. (1985). Habits of the heart.
Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Bloom, H. (1998). Shakespeare: The invention of the human. New York: Riverhead Books.
Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979). The ecology of human development. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Bruner, J. (1985). Vygotsky: A historical and conceptual perspective. In J. Wertsch (Ed.), Culture, communication and cognition: Vygotskian perspectives. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge
University Press.
Bruner, J. (1986). Actual minds, possible worlds. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Bruner, J. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Coleman, P., Ivani-Chalian, C., & Robinson, M. (1998). The story continues: Persistence of
life themes in old age. Ageing and Society, 18, 389419.
Cowan, P. A. (1999). What we talk about when we talk about families. In B. H. Fiese et al.,
The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship
beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (Serial No. 257).
Cowan, P. A., Powell, D., & Cowan, C. P. (1998). Parenting interventions: A family system
perspective. In W. Damon (Ed.), Handbook of child psychology (5th ed., Vol. 4., pp. 372).
New York: Wiley.
Erikson, E. H. (1963). Childhood and society (2nd ed.). New York: Norton.
Erikson, E. H. (1968). Identity, youth and crisis. New York: Norton.
Fiese, B. H., Hooker, K., Kotary, L., Schwagler, J., & Rimmer, M. (1995). Family stories in the
early stages of parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 763770.
Fiese, B. H., & Marjinsky, K. (1999). Dinnertime stories: Connecting family practices with
relationship beliefs and child adjustment. In B. H. Fiese et al., The stories that families tell:
Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (Serial No. 257).
Fiese, B. H., SameroV, A., Grotevant, H., Wamboldt, F., Dickstein, S., & Fravel, D. (1999).

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

21

The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction and relationship
beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (Serial No. 257).
Fiese, B. H., Wilder, J., & Bickham, N. (2000). Family context in developmental psychopathology. In A. SameroV, M. Lewis, & S. Miller (Eds.), Handbook of developmental psychopathology (2nd ed., pp. 115134). New York: Kluwer Academic.
Fivush, R. (1994). Constructing narrative, emotion, and self in parent-child conversations
about the past. In U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds.), The remembering self (pp. 136157). New
York: Cambridge University Press.
Gergen, K. J. (1992). The saturated self: Dilemmas of identity in contemporary life. New York:
Basic Books.
Gould, O., & Dixon, R. (1993). How we spent our vacation: Collaborative storytelling by
young and old adults. Psychology and Aging, 8, 1017.
Grotevant, H. D. (1993). The integrative nature of identity: Brining soloists to sing in the
choir. In J. Kroger (Ed)., Discussions in ego identity (pp. 121146). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates.
Grotevant, H., & Cooper, C. (1998). Individuality and connectedness in adolescent development: Review and prospects for research on identity, relationships, and contexts. In E. Skoe
& A. von der Lippe (Eds.), Personality development in adolescence: A cross national and life
span perspective. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Grotevant, H. D., Dunbar, N., Kohler, J. K., & Esau, A. M. (2000). Adoptive identity: How
contexts within and beyond the family shape developmental pathways. Family Relations,
49, 379387.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hareven, T. (1977). Family time and historical time. Daedalus, 106, 5770.
Hermanns, H. J. M. (1996). Voicing the self: From information processing to dialogical interchange. Psychological Bulletin, 119, 3150.
Hilbers, S. (1997, April). Adolescents narratives of parent and grandparent value socialization:
Stories of kindness and care. Poster presented at the biennial meetings of the Society for
Research in Child Development, Washington, DC.
Howe, M., & Courage, M. (1997). The emergence and early development of autobiographical memory. Psychological Review, 104, 499523.
Hrdy, S. B. (1999). Mother nature: A history of mothers, infants, and natural selection. New York:
Pantheon.
Katz, L., & Gottman, J. (1994). Patterns of marital interaction and childrens emotional development. In R. D. Parke & S. Kellam (Eds.), Exploring family relationships with other social
contexts (pp. 4974). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Kemper, S. (1992). Language and aging. In F. Craik & T. Salthouse (Eds.), The handbook of
aging and cognition. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Levy, B., & Langer, E. (1994). Aging free from negative stereotypes: Successful memory in
China among the American deaf. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 66, 989997.
Mackey, K., Arnold, M. L., & Pratt, M. W. (2001). Adolescents stories of decision-making in
more or less authoritative families: Representing the voices of parents in narrative. Journal
of Adolescent Research, 16, 243268.
Mandler, J. (1984). Stories, scripts and scenes: Aspects of schema theory. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates.

22

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

Markus, H., & Kitayama, S. (1991). Culture and the self: Implications for cognition, emotion,
and motivation. Psychological Review, 98, 224253.
Martin, P., Hagestad, G. O., & Diedrick, P. (1988). Family stories: Events (temporarily)
remembered. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 50, 533541.
McAdams, D. P. (1999). Personal narratives and the life story. In L. Pervin & O. John (Eds.),
Handbook of personality: Theory and research (2nd ed., pp. 478500). New York: Guilford
Press.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5, 100122.
McAdams, D. P., Diamond, A., St. Aubin, E. de, & MansWeld, E. (1997). Stories of commitment: The psychosocial construction of generative lives. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 72, 678694.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (Eds.). (1991). Developing narrative structure. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
McClelland, D. (1961). The achieving society. Princeton, NJ: van Nostrand.
McGoldrick, M., Heiman, M., & Carter, B. (1993). The changing family life cycle: A perspective on normalcy. In F. Walsh (Ed.), Normal family processes (2nd ed., pp. 405443).
New York: Guilford Press.
McHale, J. P., & Rasmussen, J. L. (1998). Coparental and family group-level dynamics during
infancy: Early family precursors of child and family functioning during preschool. Development & Psychopathology, 10, 3959.
Miller, P. (1994). Narrative practices: Their role in socialization and self-construction. In
U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds.), The remembering self (pp. 158179). New York: Oxford
University Press.
Miller, P., Wiley, A., Fung, H., & Liang, C-H. (1997). Personal story-telling as a medium of
socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68, 557568.
Norris, J. E., Pratt, M. W., & Kuiack, S. (2003). Parent-child relations in adulthood: An intergenerational family systems perspective. In L. Kuczynski (Ed.), The handbook of parentchild relations (p. 325344). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Ochs, E., Taylor, C., Rudolph, D., & Smith, R. (1992). Story-telling as a theory building
activity. Discourse Processes, 15, 3772.
Oliveri, M., & Reiss, D. (1987). Social networks of family members: Distinctive roles of
mothers and father. Sex Roles, 17, 719736.
Oppenheim, D., Nir, A., Warren, S., & Emde, R. (1997). Emotion regulation in mother
child narrative co-construction: Associations with childrens narratives and adaptation.
Developmental Psychology, 33, 284294.
Oppenheim, D., Wamboldt, F., Gavin, L., Renouf, A., & Emde, R. (1996). Couples co-constructions of the story of their childs birth: Associations with marital adaptation. Journal of
Narrative and Life History, 6, 121.
Parke, R. D., & Buriel, R. (1998). Socialization in the family: Ethnic and ecological perspectives. In W. Damon (Ed.), Handbook of child psychology (5th ed., Vol. 3., pp. 463552).
New York: Wiley.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1994). A social interactionist account of developing decontextualized narrative skill. Developmental Psychology, 30, 937948.
Piaget, J. (1970). Piagets theory. In P. M. Mussen (Ed.), Carmichaels manual of child psychology (3rd ed., pp. 703732). New York: Wiley.
Pillemer, D. (1998). Momentous events, vivid memories. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.

1.

FA M I L I E S , S TO R I E S , A N D T H E L I F E C O U R S E

23

Polkinghorne, D. (1996). Narrative knowing and the study of lives. In J. Birren, G. Kenyon,
J-E. Ruth, J. Schroots, & T. Svensson (Eds.), Aging and biography: Explorations in adult
development (pp. 7799). New York: Springer.
Pratt, M. W., Arnold, M., & Hilbers, S. (1998). A narrative approach to the study of moral
orientation in the family: Tales of kindness and care. In E. E. Skoe & A. L. von der Lippe
(Eds.), Personality development in adolescence: A cross-national and life span perspective (pp.
6178). London: Routledge.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J., Arnold, M. L., & Filyer, R. (1999). Generativity and moral development as predictors of value socialization narratives for young persons across the adult lifespan: From lessons learned to stories shared. Psychology and Aging, 14, 414426.
Pratt, M. W., & Norris, J. (1999). Moral development in maturity: Lifespan perspectives on
the processes of successful aging. In T. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition
and aging (pp. 291317). New York: Academic Press.
Pratt, M. W., & Robins, S. (1991). Thats the way it was: Age diVerences in the structure and
quality of adults personal narratives. Discourse Processes, 14, 7385.
Putney, N., & Bengtson, V. (2001). Families, intergenerational relationships, and kinkeeping
in midlife. In M. E. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife development (pp. 528570). New
York: Wiley.
Reiss, D. (1989). The practicing and representing family. In A. J. SameroV & R. Emde (Eds.),
Relationship disturbances in early childhood (pp. 191220). New York: Basic Books.
RogoV, B., Baker-Sennett, J., Lacasa, P., & Goldsmith, D. (1995). Development through participation in sociocultural activity. In J. Goodnow, & P. Miller (Eds.), Cultural practices as
contexts for development (pp. 4565). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.
RogoV, B., & Toma, C. (1997). Shared thinking: Community and institutional variations.
Discourse Processes, 23, 471497.
Ryan, E. B. (1991). Language issues in normal aging. In R. Lubinski (Ed.), Dementia and
communication: Clinical and research implications (pp. 8497). Toronto: B. C. Decker
Publishing.
SameroV, A., & Fiese, B. H. (2000). Transactional regulation and early intervention. In S. J.
Meisels & J. P. ShonkoV (Eds.), Handbook of early childhood intervention (2nd ed., pp. 119
149). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Sarbin, T. (1986). The narrative as root metaphor for psychology. In T. Sarbin (Ed.), Narrative
psychology: The stories nature of human conduct (pp. 321). New York: Praeger.
SchieVelen, B. (1990). The give and take of everyday life: Language socialization of Kaluli children. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.
Selman, R. (1980). The growth of interpersonal understanding: Developmental and clinical analyses. New York: Academic Press.
Smith, J., & Baltes, P. B. (1997). ProWles of psychological functioning in the old and oldestold. Psychology and Aging, 12, 458478.
Smith, M. C. (1978). Cognizing the behavior stream: The recognition of intentional action.
Child Development, 49, 736743.
Steinberg, L., & Morris, A. (2000). Adolescent development. Annual Review of Psychology, 52,
83110.
Tappan, M. B. (1991). Narrative, authorship, and the development of moral authority. New
Directions for Child Development, 54, 525.
Thorne, A. (2000). Personal memory telling and personality development. Personality and
Social Psychology Review, 4, 4556.

24

P R AT T A N D F I E S E

Vinden, P. G. (1996). Junin Quechua childrens understanding of mind. Child Development,


67, 17071716.
Vuchinich, S., Emery, R., & Cassidy, J. (1988). Family members as third parties in dyadic family conXict: Strategies, alliances, and outcomes. Child Development, 59, 12931302.
Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Wang, Q. (2001). Culture eVects on adults earliest childhood recollection and self-description:
Implications for the relation between memory and the self. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 81, 220233.
Wellman, H. (1993). Early understanding of mind: The normal case. In S. Baron-Cohen,
H. Tager-Flusberg, & D. Cohen (Eds.), Understanding other minds: Perspectives from autism
(pp. 1039). New York: Oxford University Press.
Wertsch, J. (1991). Voices of the mind. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

PA R T I

Child Narratives:
Competence and Attachment
Development

2
Echoing Our Parents:
Parental Influences
on Childrens Narration
Carole Peterson
Memorial University of Newfoundland

Allyssa McCabe
University of MassachusettsLowell

INTRODUCTION

There is no such thing as a born storyteller. Rather, narrative skills are shaped
by many inXuences, and one of the most important is the sort of habitual verbal interaction that takes place between parents and children. From the time
they are born, children are immersed in a world of narration (Miller, 1994).
Parents frequently tell narratives to each other about themselves and about
their children. In fact, probably everyone in the childs environment exchanges
stories every day about themselves and other people, both present and absent.
And as other authors in this book make clear, narratives are characteristic of
every stage of a persons life, from early childhood to old age. But parents in
particular have an important inXuence on childrens narrative skills because
of how much time they spend with their children as well as how strongly
attached they are to each other.
One of the most notable observations of those who study narratives is the
enormous variation that exists in narrative structure. For example, large differences have been documented in the sorts of stories that are told by people
who belong to diVerent cultures, including those of diVerent cultural heritages who reside in the same country (McCabe, 1996). Large diVerences have
also been documented for ethnically similar but economically disparate
groups (Peterson, 1994). Of most interest to us in this chapter is the large
27

28

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

individual variation that can be found even within ethnically, culturally, and
economically similar groups.
Such large individual variation is not simply of academic interest; evidence
is accumulating that narrative skill is one of the most important predictors of
childrens school success and literacy acquisition (Paul & Smith, 1993). Those
who competently construct narratives that are consistent with the expectations of teachers are less likely to be deWned as learning disabled (Roth, 1986)
and more likely to make the transition to literacy readily (Snow, 1983). In
fact, in one large-scale longitudinal study, kindergarten narrative production
signiWcantly predicted fourth- and seventh-grade reading comprehension
(Tabors, Snow, & Dickinson, 2001).
For more than two decades, we have been studying the development of
narrative skills in children, and for much of this time we have attempted to
understand and explain individual variation in narrative skill. In this chapter, we Wrst provide examples of the enormous variability that can exist in
the narrative skills of preschoolers and then summarize a research program
that has attempted to explain such variation. We have focused on the role of
parents in fostering their childrens narrative skills, and to do this, we studied a group of children (and their parents) longitudinally when children
were between 2 and 6 years of age. Relationships between the ways parents
engaged their children in narrative conversations and their childrens developing competence in a number of narrative skills were explored, including
the overall complexity of childrens narratives and the development of a
number of narrative components, such as contextual orientation, causality,
and evaluation. Then we turn to theoretical explanations of why parentchild conversations can play such an important role in fostering the development of child narrative skill, based on Vygotskian theoretical constructs
such as scaVolding. Finally, we present an intervention study that explicitly
tested the importance of Vygotskian scaVolding in altering childrens narrative skills.
Variability in Child Narrative Skill

To provide a sense of how substantial such individual variation can be, we


present one of the most sophisticated narratives produced by each of three
children at age 3 years. These children were part of a sample of 10 children
whose narrative development was followed longitudinally from age 2 (beginning at 2527 months of age) until age 6. All of the children were White middle-class children with well-educated parents, living in an ethnically homogeneous community in Canada.

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N T S

29

Example 1: Cathy
Researcher:
Cathy:
R:
C:

R:
C:
R:
C:
R:
C:
R:
C:
R:
C:
R:
C:

R:
C:
R:
C:

Have you ever gotten stung by a bee?


But Mark [her brother] got a big sting when he was just Wrst born.
Well, tell me about it. What happened?
I, I was walking with him and, and I just and he falled and he
didnt know that he falled right on a bee. And he, and his knee
was on a bee and stung, he got stung on a bee.
He got stung on a bee?
Uh-huh. And then I was walking another baby, Randy, and you
know what?
What?
I heard him and me and Randy came running. And you know
what?
What?
Paul, Paul Smith came too.
Paul Smith came too.
I tried to pick him up but, but he didnt want me to but I had to
call my Mommy.
You had to call your Mommy, uh-huh?
My Daddy and everybody who I knowed who was a grown-up.
And then everybody who I knowed and who was a grown-up came.
They all came, uh-huh.
From my house. And I was walking in the park. They came over
after Mark and they wanted, they wanted to see what happened to
Mark.
They wanted to see what happened to Mark? Uh-huh?
And then I, I told them and I looked down at his knee and there it
was, stung.
And there it was, stung. Looked at his knee and there it was stung,
uh-huh?
And I tried to pick him up and he wanted me to pick him up right
at that minute.

Example 2: Helen
Researcher: After that happened I had to go to the hospital. Have you ever been
hurt like that?
Helen:
We didnt go to the hospital. Cause cause whenever Ward [her
brother] gets hurt he cries and cries and one bad one was on on
and and and and there was a bee after him and he cant walk very
good and he had a fever.
R:
There was a bee after him and he cant walk very well and he had a
fever?

30

PE T E R S O N A N D M CC A B E

H:
R:
H:

Yeah. At at Nanas country place. And we were going in the Xoor


like that and that bee came up and running after Ward.
A bee came along and was running after Ward?
Yeah. We going home and then the bee came along. I think that bee
was terrible. I think that bee is a bite bee.

Example 3: Terry
Researcher:
Terry:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:
R:
T:

Have you ever caught a Wsh?


Yes.
Oh, you did?
It was a great big one, and I, and I lifted em oV and I lifted em up
in the boat.
And you lifted them oV and you lifted them up in the boat?
Yes!
And you lifted them up in the boat. Uh huh. And?
I lift them at the boat.
You lift them in the boat?
Yes!
Uh huh?
Lift them at the boat.
Yeah?
I lift them in the boat.
Yeah?
And hes a great big one.
Uh huh?
And hes a yuck one.
Hes a yuck one?
Yes and I sawed him.
Uh huh?
Purple.

The stories from these three children diVer dramatically. Cathys narrative
is well-structured according to the widely recognized tenets of good structure proposed by Labov and Waletzky (1967/1997). She provides orientation to the context of her narrative, that is, the who, where, and when of
the story. She develops the action of the story, that is, the succession of
events that communicate what happened. She builds her story around an
emotional or evaluative high point or crisis event, that is, her brothers bee
sting, and she resolves the crisis event before ending the narrative. She also
provides considerable emotional evaluation throughout the narrative so that
her attitude about the events, her perspective and feelings, are evident to the
listener.

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

31

This organization of a narrative, based on the prototype described by


Labov and Waletzky (1967/1997) was termed a classic narrative by Peterson
and McCabe (1983), who traced the development of this structural pattern in
a large group of 39-year-old children. They also described several developmental precursors of this sophisticated pattern, such as an end-at-thehigh-point narrative which has all of the other components of a classic narrative except that the narrator cuts the story oV at the high-point or crisis
event and omits a resolution. Chronological narratives are lists of successive
events, rather like a laundry list of things that happened, with no overall
coherent organization. These are often produced when children list the various things they did at a party or on a trip. Leapfrog narratives leap around
from event to event in a confusing fashion, and impoverished narratives
have too few events to be described structurally. These are minimal narratives
that provide little information.
In comparison to the classic narrative provided by Cathy, Helens narrative about a virtually identical event is confusing. Although Helen orients the
listener to important contextual information (where events occurred), she
doesnt develop the action or build her story around an evaluative high point
or crisis event. In fact, she never explicitly states the crisis event, that is,
whether or not her brother actually got stung by the bee or merely chased.
Her narrative is an example of a leapfrog narrative.
Terrys narrative is quite diVerent again; it is simply impoverished. During this narrative (one of the longest he produced), he provides no contextual
information and describes only one actual event or action which he repeats
Wve times, namely lifting a Wsh into the boat. Although he provides a bit of
description of the Wsh and an evaluation of it, there is little else in this minimal narrative. Thus, these three narratives, one showing idealized classic
form, one a leapfrog narrative and one a one-event impoverished narrative, from children who have similar cultural and economic backgrounds and
who are the same age, illustrate the sorts of diVerences in narrative skill that
piqued our interest.
How can one account for such divergent narrative skills? In our research
we have been focusing on parent-child interactions that revolve around narrative talk. Most parents reminisce with their children about events that have
occurred in the childrens liveswhat they did that morning, their visit to
a friends the previous day, their trip to their grandparents last week, and so
on. Considerable variation has been documented in how parents engage in
narrative talk with their children, not only cross-culturally (McCabe, 1996;
Minami & McCabe, 1995), but also within culturally and economically
homogeneous samples.

32

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

For example, Fivush and FromhoV (1988) described diVerences in how


White middle-class mothers structure conversations about past events with
their preschool-aged children that they termed elaborative versus repetitive.
Elaborative mothers talk more about past events, and provide considerable
elaborative detail as well as prompt their children for the provision of such
detail. In contrast, repetitive mothers talk less, ask fewer questions, and are
more likely to simply repeat prior questions if they did not get an answer.
McCabe and Peterson (1991) also found substantial diVerences in parental
styles of conducting conversations about past events. One style (similar to the
elaborative style of Fivush and FromhoV ) was termed a topic-extending style.
These parents extended their childrens talk about each past event by means
of additional questions and comments, and they attempted to elicit from
their children a lot of information about each event being recalled. Topicswitching parents, in contrast, asked a few, often formulaic, questions about
each past event and then abruptly changed the topic to another event. Thus,
their children were given little opportunity to construct an extensive narrative
or to elaborate on what they did recall. In addition, McCabe and Peterson
described a repetitive style that is similar to that described by Fivush and
FromhoV.
Given the substantial diVerences in parental styles of narrative elicitation,
the next question is whether such diVerences are predictive of childrens
development of narrative competence. So we began a longitudinal project
with parents and children. Ten middle-class children were recruited at 2527
months of age and their parents (both mothers and fathers) were provided
with a tape recorder at 1- or 2-month intervals for 18 months (until their
child reached 3 years) and asked to record conversations in which they
talked to their children about past events. In order to have an independent
measure of childrens narrative skill, a researcher also regularly interviewed
children in a standardized way. They were given art materials or other similar
activities in order to minimize self-consciousness, and the researcher told a
number of short narratives and then prompted the child to provide ones too
(Did anything like that ever happen to you?). While the child was telling a
narrative, the researcher only responded with simple encouragement like uh
huh, or really? rather than asking speciWc questions that might aVect what
the child said next. Thus, the narratives children told were self-structured
rather than structured by listener questions. These techniques have been
found to be very successful at eliciting narratives from children (Peterson &
McCabe, 1983). Children were interviewed monthly during the Wrst 18
months of the study and every 6 months thereafter when they were 3 to 6
years of age.

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

33

COMPLEXITY OF CHILDRENS NARRATIVES

Although all parents agreed to participate, they diVered substantially in how


much data they provided. Table 2.1 presents the number of tapes provided by
the parents, combining those from both mothers and fathers (taken from
McCabe & Peterson, 1990). The parents who provided us with the most
tapes were those of Cathy, one of whose narratives can be found in Example
1 above. The two families who provided us with the least included that of
Terry (who produced Example 3 above). We had to help Terrys parents Wgure
out times for taping, because they claimed that they seldom engaged in narrative conversations, and even so, we got few tapes. Another child from whose
parents we got few tapes was Sally; her mother said that she almost never
talked to Sally one-on-one, as we required. She even rejected our oVers to
babysit her other children so that she could talk with Sally by herself because
she didnt engage in such conversations with Sally. We assume that both the
willingness parents had of talking with their children one-on-one and their
cooperation in providing tapes of those conversations reXect habitual parentchild interaction in the home.
The diVering parental styles of talking with their children about past
events were related to what children produced. First, we selected two time
periods in which we had tapes from all of the parents, namely when their
children were 27 months and 31 months of age. The type of narrative questions and comments that are most helpful for children is what has been
termed topic-extension by McCabe and Peterson (1991) or elaboration by
Fivush and FromhoV (1988). The number of these utterances in the parental tapes from these two ages was tabulated and related to how long childrens self-structured narratives were (i.e., elicited by a researcher) at the end
of the parent-taping sessions, namely when the child was 3 years old.
There was a signiWcant (p < .05) positive relationship between the number
of propositions in the longest three narratives that 3-year-old children told
to the researcher and the number of topic-extending statements made by
parents when the children had been 27 months (r = .66) and 31 months
(r = .53), as well as the number of one form of topic-extending question
asked by parents at 31 months (r = .63). In contrast, the number of parental questions introducing new topics at 27 months was inversely correlated
with the length of their childs three longest narratives at 3 years (r =
-.60 data from McCabe & Peterson, 1991). Thus, children told longer
narratives to a researcher if their parents, many months earlier, had engaged
in topic extension and minimized topic-switching. These results are similar

34

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

TABLE 2.1
Number of Tapes Provided by Parents When Children Were
23 Years Old, and Frequency (and Percentage) of Each Narrative
Structural Pattern Produced by Children at Younger (Y = 34 Years)
and Older (O = 56 Years) Ages
Structural Patterns of Child Narratives
Parent
Tapes Impoverished
Child

Leapfrog
M

Chronology

End-at-hi-pt

Classic
M

Total
Child
Narrs.

7 15
5 12
12 14

9
11
20

19
27
23

2
1
3

4
2
3

4 8
10 24
14 16

47
41
88

Cathy

Y
O
total

18

25 53
14 34
39 44

Carl

Y
O
total

11

28 80
13 41
41 61

3
2
5

9
6
7

0
11
11

0
34
16

0
1
1

0
3
1

4 11
5 16
9 13

35
32
67

Paul

Y
O
total

16

22 73
13 38
35 55

2
1
3

7
3
5

2
8
10

7
24
16

2
5
7

7
15
11

2 7
7 21
9 13

30
34
64

Leah

Y
O
total

28 70
26 50
54 59

2
5
8 15
10 11

6
12
20

15
23
22

1
0
1

2
0
1

3 7
6 12
9 10

40
52
92

Ned

Y
O
total

11

23 57
15 38
38 48

3
1
4

7
3
5

11
18
29

27
46
37

1
1
2

2
3
2

2 5
4 10
6 8

40
39
79

Helen

Y
O
total

11

29 74
17 41
46 58

5 13
2
5
7
9

5
16
21

13
39
26

0
2
2

0
5
2

0 0
4 10
4 5

39
41
80

Kelly

Y
O
total

10

20 80
11 33
31 53

2
2
4

8
6
7

2
16
18

8
48
31

0
2
2

0
6
3

1
2
3

4
6
5

25
33
58

Sally

Y
O
total

28 87
17 65
45 78

0
2
2

0
8
3

4
6
10

13
23
17

0
0
0

0
0
0

0
1
1

0
4
2

32
26
58

Gary

Y
O
total

34 85
22 81
56 84

3
0
3

8
0
4

3
3
6

8
11
9

0
2
2

0
7
3

0
0
0

0
0
0

40
27
67

Terry

Y
O
total

21 75
15 88
36 80

6 21
1
6
7 16

1
1
2

4
6
4

0
0
0

0
0
0

0
0
0

0
0
0

28
17
45

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

35

to those of a longitudinal study by Fivush (1991). She found that the degree
of topic elaboration by parents (measured by the number of propositions
per turn at talk) when their children were 2 years of age was highly correlated with how elaborative their own children were when they talked with a
researcher a year later.
But more than narrative length and elaboration are important. Table 2.1
also shows the number of narratives of each structural pattern that children
produced when they talked with a researcher at biannual intervals between
3 and 6 years of age (data from McCabe & Peterson, 1990). There was a
strong relationship between the number of tapes provided by parents when
their children were between 2 and 3 years of age, and the structure of their
childrens narratives over the successive 3 years. The more tapes parents
provided, the higher the percentage of their childrens narratives that were
classically structured (r = .84, p < .01) and the lower the percentage of impoverished narratives (r = -.79, p < .01). In addition, the total number of
topic-extending questions and statements made by parents in all of their tapes
was positively related to the number of classic narratives their children produced (r = .79, p < .01). Thus, it seems that more parental input in terms
of engaging the child in narrative conversations, and more utterances that
extend or elaborate topics, are related to children developing more advanced
narrative skill. In contrast, the diVerences between children in narrative competence were not related to their syntactic competence or verbal intelligence,
as measured by their Mean Length of Utterance at 27 and 31 months of age
and their scores on the Peabody Picture Vocabulary Test (PPVT) at ages 4 and
5 years (p > .4).
There is another striking pattern in Table 2.1. If one compares the narratives of each child at younger (Y) and older (O) ages, namely at 34 years
versus 56 years, there is substantial developmental progression for most children. In particular, the proportion of primitive narratives that Wt the impoverished pattern decreases, and the proportion of the most sophisticated pattern, the classic one, increases. Notably, only three childrens narratives at 5
6 years are still mostly impoverished: Terry and Sally (whose parents provided
few tapes), and Gary. Although Garys parents provided more tapes, they were
extremely short, seldom even 5 minutes in length. Gary and Terry showed no
developmental improvement over this 3-year time span in narrative structure
and still produced no classic narratives by the end of the study. Sally produced
only one classic narrative. In contrast, fully 24% of Cathys narratives conformed to the classic narrative pattern and only a third of her narratives were
impoverished when she was 56 years of age.

36

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

THE DEVELOPMENT OF NARRATIVE COMPONENTS

Narratives consist of a number of components, all of which must be knitted


together into coherent wholes. We have explored the development of many of
these narrative components, including the provision of contextual information, such as where and when events took place, the identiWcation of causal
relationships among events, and childrens evaluation of narrative events. We
turn to these next.
Orientation to Context

Narratives are fundamentally a verbal recounting of past experiences, but in


order for such accounts to be comprehensible to a listener, they must be
embedded within a spatial-temporal context. Such orientation to context
plays a key role in making narratives comprehensible to listeners (Labov &
Waletzky, 1967/1997; Polanyi, 1985). Eisenberg (1985), among others, has
suggested that one reason the narratives of children are often so diYcult to
understand is that they lack such contextual embedding. Furthermore, the
ability to provide context for there-and-then events is an important component of the decontextualized language skills that seem to be so essential for
literacy acquisition (Snow, 1983).
Earlier, we stressed the importance of a topic-extending or elaborative
parental style of reminiscing with children, but parents who are classiWed similarly as topic-extending may nevertheless diVer in their emphasis on contextual orientation. For example, two mothers in our longitudinal sample were
classiWed as highly topic-extending or elaborative, and Table 2.2 shows how
many utterances they provided per narrative topic before changing to a different topic (data taken from Peterson & McCabe, 1992). The data are broken down into the Wrst 6 months of the longitudinal collection of data from
parents (when children were 2732 months), the second 6 months (3338
months), and the last months (3944 months). Although both mothers were
topic-extending, they diVered in the techniques they used and in what they
were elaborative about. Helens mother was very concerned about her daughter providing the context for the events that were being talked about, and her
conversation was Wlled with questions about who, where, when, why, and what
object. Cathys mother, although she also asked questions about context, was
relatively more concerned about the action of the events being related, that
is, what happened. The ratio of questions that request context information
from their daughters versus questions requesting information about action is

2.

37

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

TABLE 2.2
Properties of Mothers Narrative-elicitation Style
and the Percentage of their Childrens Self-Structured Narratives
to a Researcher that Provide Orientation to Context
Cathy

Mothers narrative elicitations


Utterances/narrative
Ratio of context questions to
action questions
Ratio of content questions to
yes/no questions
Childrens self-structured narratives
% clearly speciWed who
% with where (all narratives)
% where (away-from-home narrative)
% with when
% with why

Helen

2732 3338
mo
mo

3944
mo

2732 3338 3944


mo
mo
mo

16.7
1.4:1

16.5
1.6:1

19.4
1.5:1

25.8
2.7:1

26.6
2.6:1

14.7
2.6:1

2.8:1

4.0:1

4.4:1

1.5:1

2.2:1

1.6:1

85%
40%
24%
19%
2%

90%
43%
47%
38%
5%

88%
46%
54%
40%
12%

83%
25%
38%
0%
0%

92%
42%
56%
19%
7%

95%
58%
70%
60%
21%

Note. Table adapted from Peterson and McCabe (1992).

shown in Table 2.2 (adapted from Peterson & McCabe, 1992), and Helens
mother asks almost twice as many context questions relative to action questions as does Cathys mother. There is another diVerence between the mothers: Throughout the 18 months, Helens mother asked a large percentage of
yes/no questions. These make few demands on children in that they do not
require an elaborated, content-rich answer. Cathys mother, in contrast, asked
relatively few of these non-demanding yes/no questions, except early on when
Cathys inability to answer a content-rich question often led to rephrasing the
question into a simpliWed yes/no format. As Cathys ability to answer content-rich questions increased, the frequency of yes/no questions decreased.
Also shown in Table 2.2 are the percentages of childrens self-structured
narratives that included clear speciWcation of who and identiWcation of where,
when, and why events took place (from Peterson & McCabe, 1992). For
where, narratives are further broken down into those that describe events taking place at locations other than home (where speciWcation of location is
essential for comprehension of the story) as well as in all narratives regardless
of location. Although both children are comparable during the Wrst 6 months
of the study, Helens likelihood of providing contextual embedding is considerably higher a year later. Because Helens mother stresses the importance of

38

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

contextual orientation in her questions, Helen has learned that this is important information that should be included in her narratives.
But contextual embedding is not enough. A narrative that is well-structured, conforming to the classic narrative pattern, must have a cogent development of the action of the narrative, which Cathys mother emphasizes.
Cathys mother also demands more elaborative and information-rich responses
to her questions. As Table 2.1 shows, this emphasis on action or on what happened, as well as on content information, is reXected in Cathys earlier mastery
of classic narrative structure.
The case study of two mothers just described was extended to an analysis
of the types of questions asked by all of the parents in our longitudinal study
(Peterson & McCabe, 1994, 1996). Questions were classiWed as context questions (divided into wh-context and yes/no-context) or questions about other
content, such as actions. These questions about other content were also
divided into wh- questions and yes/no questions. As well, clarifying questions
and statements were tabulated. This was done for the recorded parent-child
conversations that took place during the three 6-month periods of our 18month collection of taped parent-child conversations, that is, when children
were at Age 1 (2631 months), Age 2 (3237 months) and Age 3 (3843
months old). In addition, the provision of when and where context was
assessed in the childrens self-structured narratives elicited by a researcher during these same three periods.
There was little relationship between the types of questions parents asked
in the Wrst or second time period and the childs provision of spatial-temporal context in the same time periods. That is, almost all correlations between
parent and child at Age 1 or Age 2 were nonsigniWcant. However, there were
a number of signiWcant relationships between the sorts of questions parents
emphasized during the Wrst year of the study and the amount of contextual
orientation that children provided in the last 6 months of the study. These
signiWcant correlations are shown in Table 2.3 (taken from Peterson &
McCabe, 1996). Note that there are a total of eight correlations between earlier parental context questions at Ages 1 and 2 and child performance at Age
3, and of these, fully seven were signiWcant. That is, the number of context
questions that parents asked both a full year, as well as half a year, earlier predicted how well their children provided spatial-temporal context when they
were 3 years of age. An interesting comparison is the contrast between these
earlier parental context questions (of which seven out of eight were signiWcant) and synchronous context questions, that is, context questions asked by
parents at Age 3 and their childrens contextual orientation at Age 3. Only
two of the four synchronous correlations between parent and child at Age 3

2.

39

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

were signiWcant. Thus, it seems that parents context questions at an earlier


point in time are more important than those questions asked concurrently,
despite the fact that common sense would have predicted a relationship
between questions asked and information provided at any given point in
time. Another important contrast is between the role of parental context
questions and other sorts of parental questions and utterances. There was virtually no relationship between the number of other sorts of parental questions
during the Wrst year of the study and childrens later propensity to include
spatial-temporal information in their narratives during the Wnal 6 months of
the study. Of a total of 72 possible correlations between questions about other
TABLE 2.3
SigniWcant Correlations Between Frequencies of Questions About Context
and Childrens Provision of Where and When
Child Performance
Parent Behavior

Age 1

Age 2

Age 3

Wh-context questions
where
Age 1
Age 2
Age 3

-.65, p = .020

.54, p = .024
.68, p = .015

when
Age 1
Age 2
Age 3

.74, p = .007

.57, p = .042
.69, p = .013
.66, p = .019

Yes/no context questions


where
Age 1
Age 2
Age 3

.76, p = .005
.57, p = .042

when
Age 1
Age 2
Age 3

Note. Table reprinted from Peterson and McCabe (1996).

.64, p = .022
.78, p = .004

40

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

content (both wh- and yes/no questions), clarifying questions, or statements


and childrens provision of either where or when context, only three were signiWcanta result that is probably due to chance.
These data argue strongly that it is not simply talking with children about
past events nor asking questions about any sort of content that is important
for children to learn how to embed their narratives within a spatial-temporal
context; rather, children who are asked a lot of questions about context come
to increasingly include contextual information in their self-structured narratives. In other words, children learn the components of a narrative that are
important because of what parents emphasize in parent-child conversations
about past events. Similar relationships between earlier parental questions
about orientative context and later child skill in providing such contextual
embedding have been found by others as well (e.g., Fivush, 1991).
General Evaluation

From the beginning, narrative researchers have emphasized the importance of


emotional evaluation (Labov & Waletzky, 1967/1997). A good story not only
tells a listener what happened, it also tells the listener what those events meant
to the narrator. That is, it embeds the events within a context of personal
meaning, of emotional reaction. It informs the listener about the narrators
perspective on those events. In essence, evaluation is the heart of narration.
There are a number of ways in which narrators can evaluate the events in
their narratives, including specifying aVect (I was sad), their cognitions
or perceptions (I got confused), repetition for eVect (The needle went up
and down and up and down), elaboration of details (My chin bleeded. It
bleeded on my mitten.), gratuitous terms (very, really, some, as in I
was some happy), negation (I didnt do it), exclamation (Was I mad!),
attention getters (And then know what?), comparison (Crying like a madman), intensiWers and qualiWers (stupid, fun, silly), reported speech
(She said that she was happy), compulsion words (Mommy made us come
in then), words that are evaluative per se (squished, Wnally as in We
Wnally got him to do it), exaggeration (I ran as fast as a deer), objective
judgments (Ten dollars is a lot of money for a kid), and subjective judgments (That was okay).
In longitudinal assessments of parental evaluation in parent-child reminiscing, parents have been shown to be relatively consistent (Haden, 1998;
Reese, Haden, & Fivush, 1993). That is, some parents are highly evaluative
and others are much less so during parent-child conversations about past
events. Parents also seem to be more evaluative when talking with their girls

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

41

than boys, in that they talk more about emotions (and a wider variety of
emotions) to daughters (Cervantes & Callanan, 1998; Dunn, Bretherton, &
Munn, 1987; Fivush, 1998). Some researchers have found gender diVerences
in childrens presentation of emotion in their narratives (Buckner & Fivush,
1998; Haden, Haine, & Fivush, 1997); others have found few diVerences in
childrens use of most other forms of evaluation (Peterson & McCabe, 1983;
Peterson & Biggs, 1998, 2001) with the exception of the evaluative device of
reported speech. Girls include more reported speech than do boys (Ely &
McCabe, 1993).
Parents who have an elaborative reminiscing style are likely to use more
evaluation (Reese & Fivush, 1993), and we were curious about whether there
are more speciWc relationships between parental and child evaluation. That is,
does evaluation show the same sort of speciWcity eVect that has been previously found for orientation? To answer this, we assessed total parent evaluative input in our longitudinal sample when children were 27, 31, and 34
months, as well as total child evaluative output in their researcher-elicited
narratives at 27, 31, and 34 months, as well as at 4 years (McCabe & Peterson, 2000). In addition, we assessed the role of overall topic-extending input
by parents in all of the tapes that they provided us.
Two major Wndings emerged from this study. First, there was no direct
relationship between parental and child evaluation. The rank of parents in
terms of the evaluative input they provided at 27, 31, and 34 months did not
correlate with the rank of children in terms of providing narrative evaluation
to an experimenter at those ages and when 4 years old. On the other hand,
there was a relationship between how topic-extending a parent was and how
much evaluation children provided. That is, when parents were ranked, those
who were more topic-extending during parent-child reminiscing had children who had higher ranks in terms of how much evaluation they included in
their self-structured narratives (rho = .52, p < .05). Thus, it seems that it is
general parental interest in extending discussion about the past that is important, not speciWc parental attention to evaluation. Parents who are interested
in a childs past experiences, and who are elaborative and topic-extending
during parent-child reminiscing, have children who are more likely to evaluate their experiences when narrating.
Our sample size was small, however, and this may well be the reason that
relationships between parental and child use of evaluative talk did not prove
to be signiWcant. Several studies with sample sizes over 40 found concurrent
relationships between parent and preschooler emotion language in picture
description (Denham, Cook, & Zoller, 1992) and autobiographical narration
(Farrar, Fasig, & Welch-Ross, 1997) and longitudinal relationships in parent

42

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

and toddler references to feeling states in non-narrative free conversations


recorded at home (Dunn et al., 1987). Most relevant is work by Haden,
Haine, and Fivush (1997) that found a longitudinal relationship between
maternal emphasis on evaluations in personal narrative talk at 3 and child
provision of such evaluation at 5 years, although the childs inclination to
provide relatively more evaluative information to a neutral experimenter at
3 years was also predictive.
The fact that we found signiWcant componential relationships in a small
sample for orientation but not for general evaluation may mean that the
strength of the relationship in the latter case is weaker than that of the former,
something less likely to be detected in a small sample. Provision of information about what a personal experience means is complex and, by deWnition,
subjective, and parents are often quite surprised to Wnd out that, for example,
the favorite part of a childs trip to Disneyland was not seeing Mickey Mouse
or any particular ride but rather Wnding real geode rocks in a planter outside
the rest rooms. In other words, parents are less able to directly scaVold children in articulating what an event meant than they are when and where it
happened. This interpretation is bolstered by the Wnding we report later in
this chapter that an intervention experiment had a signiWcant impact on provision of orientation but not of evaluation.
Causal Relationships

Events in our lives are often highly inter-related, and one important form of
inter-relationship is causality. Some events cause other events to happen or set
up necessary preconditions. For example, falling on a nail can cause a cut on
the leg, pulling on a cats tail can cause the cat to scratch, or hitting another
child can cause that child to hit back. Explicitly informing a listener about
causal relationships in narrated events leads to narratives about those events
being perceived as more coherent and comprehensible (Buckner & Fivush,
1998; Fivush, 1991). Thus, learning to describe causal relationships between
events is another component skill involved in competent narration.
An important question is whether parental practices during narrative elicitation vis--vis specifying causality are related to childrens acquisition of skill
in describing causal relationships between events. To answer this, we Wrst
combed through the researcher-elicited narratives of children in our longitudinal sample and we found that the age when children Wrst included a
spontaneous expression of causality varied widely, from 30 to 66 months of
age (McCabe & Peterson, 1997). Next, we analyzed the parent-child conversations, and we found remarkable consistency in parental behavior. In con-

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

43

versations that took place more than 6 months prior to childrens Wrst spontaneous expression of causality, parents almost never mentioned causality. For
example, at 7 months prior to a childs Wrst independent causal statement,
there were 0.08 mentions of causality per narrative topic by parents. However, parents consistently increased their discussion of past causality with
their child approximately 6 months prior to their childs Wrst spontaneous
production of causal language. At 6 months prior to a childs Wrst causal
expression (regardless of the childs age at that time), parents talked about
causality 0.21 times per narrative, and at 5 months prior, there were 0.52
causal mentions per narrative, and in the next few months it remained equivalently high. Thus, a half year prior to a childs Wrst spontaneous expression of
causality, parents began to emphasize causality in their narrative conversations. Children began responding to these parental prompts about causality,
and all children were able to respond to at least some parental scaVolds about
causality at least a month prior to the time when they could produce causal
language spontaneously, and on average 5 months prior. Thus, a consistent
pattern was found: rare references to causality by parents, a sudden increase
in parental prompts about causality 6 months prior to childrens Wrst spontaneous production of causal language, children increasingly responding to
scaVolded interactions about causality, and Wnally, spontaneous production
of causality by children.
Other investigators have also found a relationship between parental conversations about causality and childrens inclusion of causality in their narratives. For example, in a longitudinal investigation, Fivush (1991) assessed the
number of references to causal or conditional relationships in maternal language and the number of such references in their childrens narratives to a
researcher a year later. There was a strong positive correlation between the
two frequencies (r = .78); mothers who talked about causality more when
their children were 2 years old had children who talked more about causality a year later, at age 3.
Reported Speech

Causal linkage between events has often been considered to be one form of
evaluation (Labov & Waletzky, 1967/1997), and as we have seen, it shows
speciWc parent-child eVects. But another form of evaluation, other than
causality, also has been found to yield speciWc eVects. In a diVerent study in
which dinnertime conversations were recorded for 22 middle-class families
that had a child between 2 and 5 years of age, Ely, Gleason, Narasimhan, and
McCabe (1995) found that mothers used more of the evaluative device of

44

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

reported speech than did fathers. Of most interest here is that there was a signiWcant correlation between the amount of reported speech by mothers and
children (r = .63, p < .005), but not between fathers and children (r = .16).
Thus, children seem to resemble their mothers in the use of this device.
When reported speech was investigated in the Peterson and McCabe (1992)
longitudinal study, mothers of 2- to 3-year-old children again were found
to use substantially more prompts for reported speech (i.e., 100 of 107
observed prompts for reported speech were made by mothers), and mothers
themselves made almost all observed reports of past speech (50 of 55 observations). By the time their children were 5, girls attention to past speech was
double that of boys (Ely, Gleason, & McCabe, 1996).
The value of reporting speech has been documented to be gendered. Tannen (1990) put it best when she quoted one very representative complaint by
a woman about her husband, Men dont tell the whole story who said
what, and another who said, Its like pulling teeth to get him to tell me,
What did she say, What did he say? (p. 116). She goes on to note that men
see such emphasis on reported speech as attention to unimportant details.
Tannen was writing about adults, of course, but what we have seen is that
such divergent values have a very early onset in the preschool years.
Gender

The eventual impact of such gender diVerences in adult preferences for narrative components eventuates in replication of gender diVerences in their
oVspring. Moreover, parents of both sexes may set aside their own preferences
in the interest (albeit probably not conscious) of fostering what they see as
gender-appropriate narration. For example, both fathers and mothers alike
talk in distinctively diVerent ways to their young daughters versus their young
sons (see Fivush, 1998, for a review).
Gender diVerences in adults narrative preferences added to increasingly
observable gender diVerences in children, and the well-known fact that mothers tend to talk substantially more with their children than do fathers can
be Wt into the sociocultural framework that we have adopted. Such a sociocultural framework would lead us to expect more congruence between the
narrative styles of mothers and their daughters than between any other pairing (e.g., fathers and daughters or mothers and sons), and we have found evidence that such is the case.
Recently, we have independently collected self-structured narratives from
both parents and children about the same events. This research diVers from
prior research in our laboratory in that parents narrated to a researcher rather
than engaged in parent-child reminiscence, and they were asked to narrate

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

45

about a target event, the same one as the child. This event was a highly salient
one in childrens lives, namely an injury serious enough to require hospital
emergency room (ER) treatment. Families were recruited from the ER and
visited at home several days later, and their memory for the injury and subsequent hospital treatment was assessed as part of other research. Prior to memory probing, self-structured narratives were elicited (Tell me about when
you/your child got hurt.). There were 137 preschool-aged children (25
years) and 98 school-aged children (813 years) and their parents (154 mothers and 81 fathers) who participated.
The parents and childrens narratives were assessed on a range of narrative
measures, including two measures of length (number of words and number of
clauses), two measures of elaboration (number of descriptors and number of
new units of information), one measure of cohesion (number of inter-clausal
connectives), two measures of coherence (number of temporal and of causal/
conditional linguistic links), and two measures of contextual embedding
(number of references to time context and spatial context). As well, new units
of information were sub-categorized in terms of whether they referred to
people, location, activities, objects, or attributes. In all, there were 14 measures of narrative properties.
There is, of course, enormous individual variation in the narratives of both
parents and children, with some individuals stressing the importance of contextual embedding, others stressing the importance of descriptive elaboration, and so on. We computed correlations between parents and children,
with children categorized as preschool- or school-aged, and both parents and
children separated by gender. The patterns of correlations that we found are
shown in Table 2.4 (taken from Peterson & Roberts, 2003). Strikingly, the
narratives of older daughters and their mothers are highly similar in at least
one measure of all Wve narrative properties, that is, length, elaboration, cohesion, coherence, and context-setting. SpeciWcally, fully 10 of the 14 measures
comparing mothers and older daughters are signiWcant at the p < .004 level.
In contrast, none of the correlations between older daughters and their
fathers are signiWcant. There is no relationship between older sons narrative
measures and those of either parent. (Very few of the correlations between
preschoolers and their parents were signiWcant, probably because their narratives were so short.)
The high degree of similarity in how mothers and their school-aged daughters linguistically represent events in their narratives supports suggestions of
a special status for mother-daughter dyads, in comparison with mother-son,
father-daughter, or father-son dyads (Russell & Saebel, 1997). In their review
of research regarding the distinctness of the four types of parent-child dyad,
Russell and Saebel stated that although evidence was limited, there seemed to

46

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

TABLE 2.4
SigniWcant Correlations Between Child-Parent Dyads,
with Bonferroni Correction (p < .004)
Parent-Daughter Dyads
Younger Kids
Mom
Measure
Length:
Clauses
Words
Elaboration:
Descriptors
Unique units
Person
Location
Object
Activity
Attribute
Cohesion:
Connectives
Coherence:
Causal/cond.
Temporal
Context:
Time context
Spatial context

Dad

N = 51 N = 15

Parent-Son Dyads

Older Kids
Mom

Dad

N = 25 N = 16

Younger Kids
Mom

Dad

N = 48

N = 23

Older Kids
Mom

Dad

N = 30 N = 27

0.76*
0.72*

0.74*
0.64*
0.52*
0.54*

0.74*

0.41*

0.77*

0.39*

0.66*

0.82*
0.69*

0.77*

0.47*

Note. Table from Peterson and Roberts (2003). Copyright 2003 by the American Psychological Association. Adapted with permission.
*p < .004.

be greater aVective closeness or emotional cohesion between mothers and


their daughters than between parents and children in other dyad compositions. We suggest that narrative exchanges between mothers and their daughters are a key aspect of such aVective closeness and emotional cohesion, and
that the correspondence in narrative structure embodies both.

THEORETICAL CONSIDERATIONS

To reiterate, we and others have shown repeatedly that there is a relationship


between how parents reminisce with their children and their childrens devel-

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

47

opment of narrative skills. Parents who use a topic-extending, elaborative style


have children who become skilled narrators at earlier ages. Topic-extending,
elaborative parents have children who tell longer narratives and who are likely
to demonstrate more sophisticated narrative structure such as the classic narrative pattern. But there are more direct relationships than this between what
parents do and how child narrative skill develops. For example, the sort of
questions that seem to be crucial for childrens developing skill at embedding
their narratives within an appropriate spatial-temporal context are those that
speciWcally prompt the child to provide contextual information. Asking any
sort of question will not do; rather, context orientation skill in children is
related to parental questions speciWcally about context orientation. Furthermore, there seems to be a time-lagged relationship between such parental
prompts and child skill development.
Data such as these support a Vygotskian theoretical framework. Vygotskys
(1978) theory proposes that social interactions (i.e., inter-psychological processes) give rise to internal (intra-psychological) processes. In particular, the
theory emphasizes the importance of adults or other knowledgeable individuals scaVolding the early attempts of a beginner who is acquiring a new skill.
Adults regulate how a task is done as well as provide extensive guidance and
feedback to a child learner, thus providing the structure and much of the content of the task. Essentially, adult feedback and questions serve as a scaVold for
the childs skill acquisition. The repeated information about what to do that is
contained in the scaVold becomes internalized over time, and thus the childs
own inner speech takes over the functions that previously were Wlled by the
external scaVolds provided by parents and others. Another important concept
is the zone of proximal development. This is the diVerence between what children can do on their own and what they can accomplish with adult scaVolding. Good scaVolding by an adult is sensitive to the childs level of accomplishment in a particular type of task, and as children become more proWcient, the
scaVold is decreased. Some recent formulations, however, have emphasized
the bidirectionality of parent and child inXuences, proposing a spiral model
of increasing task sophistication by parents as child competence increases
(Haden et al., 1997; Reese et al., 1993). SpeciWcally, these authors suggest that
adult scaVolds may be primitive when child skill levels are very low, and as
children become more competent at the task, the adult scaVold increases in
sophistication. Essentially, feedback from children about increasing skill competence leads to more elaborate concepts being scaVolded, so that both partners are engaged in increasingly complex task-related behavior. Children have
been shown to acquire many cognitive skills through the help of adults provision of eVective scaVolds (McLane, 1987; RogoV & Gardner, 1984).

48

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

Parent-child discourse has been highlighted as an important source of


parental scaVolding (Peterson & McCabe, 1994), and in terms of childrens
acquisition of narration, Vygotskian theory would hypothesize that the speciWc sorts of narrative interactions engaged in by parents and children would
play a key role in facilitating childrens narrative skills. Parents who provide a
narrative scaVold that is rich in questions and statements about orientative
context essentially teach their children the importance of including this sort
of information in their narratives, as well as show them how it should be
incorporated. Thus, over time children begin to spontaneously provide contextual information in anticipation of habitual parental prompts for it. We have
also seen that parental prompts about causality precede in a regular way childrens ability to linguistically express such relationships spontaneously. That
is, there is a progression from little prompting for causality in adult narrative
scaVolds to increasing questions about why by parents accompanied by an
increasing incidence of children responding to such prompts appropriately,
and Wnally children being able to spontaneously produce linguistic causal
connections in their self-structured narratives. This is consistent with Vygotskys zone of proximal development: Parents provide virtually no prompting
about causality when children are not yet capable of appropriate response, but
as children acquire the ability to respond to causal prompts, their frequency
increases sharply even though children still cannot provide causal information unassisted by parental prompting. Finally, children are able to independently include causality in their narratives. Vygotskys theory would posit that
through parental scaVolding, children learn narrative properties, and that
variation in the scaVolds that parents construct vis--vis narration will be
related to variation in child narrative skill.
An Intervention Study: Teaching Effective Scaffolding

Although there have been numerous demonstrations of time-lagged relationships between earlier parental reminiscing style and later child narrative skill,
these have been correlational in nature. And, of course, even time-lagged
correlation does not mean causation. A more powerful research design is
required, namely an experimental intervention. This has been done (Peterson, Jesso, & McCabe, 1999). We recruited 20 economically disadvantaged
families with 3-year-old children, all of whom were on Canadian social
assistance (equivalent to welfare in the U.S.), and randomly assigned them to
either an intervention or a control group. The mothers styles of eliciting
narratives from their children were assessed at the beginning of the study by
leaving a tape recorder with them to record reminiscing, as was the childrens

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

49

skill at constructing self-structured narratives to a researcher using our standard narrative-eliciting procedures. Childrens language skills were also
assessed by the PPVT. Subsequently, a researcher talked with the intervention
mothers about the sorts of narrative interactions that seem to foster children
developing the narrative skills that help them to Wt in with school.
The intervention emphasized the following points (from Peterson et al.,
1999):
1. Talk to your child frequently and consistently about past experiences.
2. Spend a lot of time talking about each topic.
3. Ask plenty of wh questions and few yes/no questions. As part of
this, ask questions about the context or setting of the events, especially where and when they took place.
4. Listen carefully to what your child is saying, and encourage elaboration.
5. Encourage your child to say more than one sentence at a time by
using backchannel responses or simply repeating what your child
has just said.
6. Follow your childs lead. That is, talk about what your child wants to
talk about.
The researcher illustrated each of these points and both showed the parent
transcripts of other parents reminiscing with their children and played them
tapes of these interactions. These provided concrete examples of parents using
or failing to use the types of prompts and interaction style we were fostering.
Then the researcher engaged in role playing with the parent, to help them
learn these techniques. Subsequently, families were visited every other month
and interim telephone calls were made to remind and encourage the mothers.
The intervention lasted for a year. Control mothers were told that we were
interested in learning more about how children develop narratives. At the end
of the year-long intervention, post-test data were collected: Parents were again
given tape recorders and asked to record parent-child reminiscing, children
were interviewed again by a researcher, and the PPVT was re-administered. A
year later, when the children were approximately 5 years old, 14 of the children (half in each group) were found and a researcher elicited more narratives
from the children for a follow-up assessment. Comparisons of families who
could not be found with those that remained in the study showed that these
two groups did not diVer in parental or child variables in pretesting. Attrition
was attributed to families in poverty being more likely to move or have disconnected telephones.

50

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

TABLE 2.5
Mean Number of Parent Measures
(and Standard Deviations) at Pre-Test and Post-Test
Time of Test
Measure
Open-ended prompts
Control Group
Intervention Group
Wh-context questions
Control Group
Intervention Group
Back-channeling
Control Group
Intervention Group
Total of above 3
Control Group
Intervention Group
Yes/no questions
Control Group
Intervention Group

Pre-Test

Post-Test

11.3 (6.4)
9.7 (5.5)

11.7 (4.1)
14.4 (4.2)

6.4 (4.2)
4.5 (3.5)

6.8 (4.1)
8.5 (2.6)

3.8 (2.9)
3.0 (1.8)

3.2 (2.7)
4.9 (2.5)

21.5 (7.2)
17.2 (5.8)

21.7 (6.9)
28.2 (4.0)*

9.2 (3.2)
7.5 (3.7)

10.2 (3.2)
8.8 (2.7)

Note. Table reprinted from Peterson et al. (1999).


*p < 0.05 for the Group Time interaction.

An analysis of the parental tapes showed that the intervention mothers


indeed altered their reminiscing style in ways consistent with our intervention. Table 2.5 (from Peterson et al., 1999) shows that intervention-group
mothers, relative to controls, increased the number of open-ended prompts,
context-eliciting questions using wh- questions, and back-channel supportive responses over time. If one combined these three types of utterances,
there was a signiWcant Group Time interaction. SpeciWcally, the two
groups did not diVer at the pre-test assessment, but intervention mothers
signiWcantly improved and included more of these in their conversations
than did control mothers by the time of the post-test assessment. There was
little diVerence between the two groups of parents in the frequency of yes/
no questions.
In terms of child changes, intervention childrens PPVT scores signiWcantly improved over the course of the 1-year intervention, relative to the
control childrens scores (see Table 2.6, adapted from Peterson et al., 1999).
But there was as yet limited change in childrens narrative skills. It seems

2.

51

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

that vocabulary can be inXuenced over the course of relatively short-term


intervention (consistent with the Wndings of others such as Whitehurst &
Valdez-Menchaca, 1988), but more complex narrative skills may take longer
to inXuence.
The story was diVerent a year later, however, during the follow-up assessment. Two important characteristics of narratives are orientation to spatialtemporal context and informativeness. Table 2.6 shows the total amount of
spatial and temporal context-setting information and the number of new or
unique units of information, that is, how informative the narratives were,
for each childs three longest narratives during pre-test, post-test, and followup assessments. Intervention children substantially increased the amount of
spatial-temporal context as well as the informativeness of their narratives.
Control children, in comparison, showed no improvement in context-setting
and less dramatic improvement in informativeness.
Overall, this study lends strong support to the important causative role of
parental reminiscing styles. Parents who were taught to scaVold contextual
information in their narrative interactions had children who substantially improved in their skill at embedding their narratives within a spatial-temporal
context. Parents who were taught to encourage children to provide more information and to elaborate on what they had said had children who produced
more informative, elaborated narratives. In other words, teaching parents
diVerent ways of scaVolding their childrens narratives worked.
TABLE 2.6
Outcome Language (PPVT) and Narrative Measures (Amount
of Context-Setting Information and Unique Units of Information)
for Children at Pre-Test, Post-Test, and Follow-up Assessments
Time of Test
Measure
PPVT
Intervention group
Control group
Total context-setting information
Intervention group
Control group
Unique units of information
Intervention group
Control group

Pre-test

Post-test

Follow-up

52.5
54.1

59.0
55.5

11.0
9.1

11.7
13.5

25.8
11.3

31.4
33.6

27.9
36.1

170.4
117.9

Note. Table adapted from Peterson et al. (1999).

52

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

CONCLUSIONS

In conclusion, childrens narratives reXect numerous aspects of their lives.


Children echo their parents in a general predilection for talking at length
about past events (or not), but also in many speciWc ways. Parents concern
for descriptive detail predicts their childrens provision of such detail. Parents
discussion of what causes what predates childrens provision of such information by half a year. Parents general interest in what has happened to a child,
as indicated by their tendency to talk at length about this, predicts a childs
evaluation of such experience, though the nature of that evaluation very
much derives from the childs own perspective. Not only does parental interest in the past predict childrens narrative ability, it also causes such ability to
develop, as we demonstrated in an experimental intervention that involved
random assignment of parents and successful increment in vocabulary and,
eventually, narrative ability in the experimental group. Through parents, children learn general values regarding the form of narrative valued by the culture. Finally, daughters, especially, mirror their mothers when talking about
traumatic events. In all these ways, then, storytellers are made, not born.

REFERENCES
Buckner, J. P., & Fivush, R. (1998). Gender and self in childrens autobiographical narratives.
Applied Cognitive Psychology, 12, 407429.
Cervantes, C. A., & Callanan, M. A. (1998). Labels and explanations in mother-child emotion
talk: Age and gender diVerentiation. Developmental Psychology, 34, 8898.
Denham, S. A., Cook, M., & Zoller, D. (1992). Baby looks very sad: Implications of conversations about feelings between mother and preschooler. British Journal of Developmental
Psychology, 10, 301315.
Dunn, J., Bretherton, I., & Munn, P. (1987). Conversations about feeling states between
mothers and their young children. Developmental Psychology, 23, 132139.
Eisenberg, A. R. (1985). Learning to describe past experiences in conversation. Discourse Processes, 8, 177204.
Ely, R., Gleason, J. B., Narasimhan, B., & McCabe, A. (1995). Family talk about talk: Mothers lead the way. Discourse Processes, 19, 201218.
Ely, R., Gleason, J. B., & McCabe, A. (1996). Why didnt you talk to your mommy, Honey?
Parents and childrens talk about talk. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 29,
725.
Ely, R., & McCabe, A. (1993). Remembered voices. Journal of Child Language, 20, 671696.
Farrar, M. J., Fasig, L. G., & Welch-Ross, M. K. (1997). Attachment and emotion in autobiographical memory development. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 67, 389408.

2.

E C H O I N G O U R PA R E N TS

53

Fivush, R. (1991). The social construction of personal narratives. Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 37,
5981.
Fivush, R. (1998). Gendered narratives: Elaboration, structure, and emotion in parent-child
reminiscing across the preschool years. In C. P. Thompson, D. J. Herrmann, D. Bruce,
J. D. Read, D. G. Payne, & M. P. Toglia (Eds.), Autobiographical memory: Theoretical and
applied perspectives (pp. 79103). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Fivush, R., & FromhoV, F. A. (1988). Style and structure in mother-child conversations about
the past. Discourse Processes, 11, 337355.
Haden, C. A. (1998). Reminiscing with diVerent children: Relating maternal stylistic consistency and sibling similarity in talk about the past. Developmental Psychology, 34, 99114.
Haden, C. A., Haine, R. A., & Fivush, R. (1997). Developing narrative structure in parentchild reminiscing across the preschool years. Developmental Psychology, 33, 295307.
Labov, W., & Waletzky, J. (1967/1997). Narrative analysis: Oral versions of personal experience. In J. Helm (Ed.), Essays on the verbal and visual arts (pp. 1244). Seattle: University
of Washington Press. Reprinted in Journal of Narrative and Life History, 7, 338.
McCabe, A. (1996). Chameleon readers: Teaching children to appreciate all kinds of good stories.
New York: McGraw-Hill.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (1990, July). Keep them talking: Parental styles of interviewing and
subsequent child narrative skill. Paper presented at the Wfth International Congress of Child
Language, Budapest, Hungary.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (1991). Getting the story: A longitudinal study of parental styles
in eliciting narratives and developing narrative skill. In A. McCabe & C. Peterson (Eds.),
Developing narrative structure (pp. 217253). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (1997). Meaningful mistakes: The systematicity of childrens
connectives in narrative discourse and the social origins of this usage about the past. In
J. Costermans & M. Fayol (Eds.), Processing interclausal relationships: Studies in the production and comprehension of text (pp. 139154). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (2000, July). An eVort after meaning: Parental inXuences on childrens evaluations in narratives of past personal experiences. Paper presented at the seventh
International Pragmatics Association Conference in Budapest, Hungary.
McLane, J. B. (1987). Interaction, context, and the zone of proximal development. In
M. Hickmann (Ed.), Social and functional approaches to language and thought (pp. 267
285). New York: Academic Press.
Miller, P. J. (1994). Narrative practices: Their role in socialization and self-construction. In
U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds.), The remembering self: Construction and accuracy in the selfnarrative (pp. 158179). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Minami, M., & McCabe, A. (1995). Rice balls versus bear hunts: Japanese and Caucasian family narrative patterns. Journal of Child Language, 22, 423446.
Paul, R., & Smith, R. L. (1993). Narrative skills in 4-year-olds with normal, impaired, and late
developing language. Journal of Speech and Hearing Research, 36, 592598.
Peterson, C. (1994). Narrative skills and social class. Canadian Journal of Education, 19, 251
269.
Peterson, C., & Biggs, M. (1998). Stitches and casts: Emtionality and narrative coherence.
Narrative Inquiry, 8, 5176.
Peterson, C., & Biggs, M. (2001). I was really, really, really mad! Childrens use of evaluative
devices in narratives about emotional events. Sex Roles, 45, 801825.

54

PE T E R S O N A N D M C C A B E

Peterson, C., Jesso, B., & McCabe, A. (1999). Encouraging narratives in preschoolers: An
intervention study. Journal of Child Language, 26, 4967.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1983). Developmental psycholinguistics: Three ways of looking at a
childs narrative. New York: Plenum.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1992). Parental styles of narrative elicitation: EVect on childrens
narrative structure and content. First Language, 12, 299321.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1994). A social interactionist account of developing decontextualized narrative skill. Developmental Psychology, 30, 937948.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1996). Parental scaVolding of context in childrens narratives. In
J. H. V. Gilbert & C. E. Johnson (Eds.), Childrens language (Vol. 9, pp. 183196). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Peterson, C., & Roberts, C. (2003). Like mother, like daughter: Similarities in narrative style.
Developmental Psychology, 39, 551562.
Polanyi, L. (1985). Telling the American story. Norwood NJ: Ablex.
Reese, E., & Fivush, R. (1993). Parental styles of talking about the past. Developmental Psychology, 29, 596606.
Reese, E., Haden, C. A., & Fivush, R. (1993). Mother-child conversations about the past:
Relationships of style and memory over time. Cognitive Development, 8, 403430.
RogoV, B., & Gardner, W. P. (1984). Adult guidance in cognitive development: An examination of mother-child instruction. In B. RogoV & J. Lave (Eds.), Everyday cognition: Its
development in social context (pp. 95116). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Roth, F. P. (1986). Oral narrative abilities of learning-disabled students. Topics in Language
Disorders, 7, 2130.
Russell, A., & Saebel, J. (1997). Mother-son, mother-daughter, father-son, and father-daughter: Are they distinct relationships? Developmental Review, 17, 111147.
Snow, C. E. (1983). Literacy and language: Relationships during the preschool years. Harvard
Educational Review, 53, 165189.
Tabors, P. O., Snow, C. E., & Dickinson, D. K. (2001). Homes and schools together: Supporting language and literacy development. In D. K. Dickinson & P. O. Tabors (Eds.),
Beginning literacy with language (pp. 313334). Baltimore, MD: Brooks.
Tannen, D. (1990). You just dont understand. New York: Ballantine.
Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Whitehurst, G. J., & Valdez-Menchaca, M. C. (1988). What is the role of reinforcement in
early language acquisition? Child Development, 59, 430440.

3
Family Narratives and the
Development of Childrens
Emotional Well-Being
Robyn Fivush
Jennifer Bohanek
Rachel Robertson
Marshall Duke
Emory University
After the good times were over, as we grew older, we were to tell each other
stories about the past, each adding his or her own fragments of pleasurable detail, until the joint memory became something larger than each single memory, and yet became something that each of us possessed fully, as if
it were solely our own.
Wilson (1998, p. 142)

Much of family interaction focuses on telling family stories; in everyday interactions, over the dinner table, in the car, across the television dialogue, and
in more formal, ritualized interactions, at holiday dinners, family reunions,
weddings, and funerals, family members engage in co-constructing the events
they have shared together in the past. These narratives, often told again and
again, deWne the shape of each familys emotional life. The way in which individual family members participate in the recreation of the familys shared past
modulates an evolving self-understanding both as an individual and as a
member of the family. In this chapter, we examine the ways in which families co-construct narratives. Our focus is on individual diVerences in the
process of family reminiscing, and we argue that the way in which families
co-construct their shared past has implications for childrens developing emotional well-being and resilience. More speciWcally, families that are able to talk
about emotionally complex and diYcult events in more open, integrated, and
55

56

FIVUSH ET AL.

coherent ways may help provide children with the resources to cope with and
resolve aversive experiences.
In the Wrst section, we present evidence of individual diVerences in parental reminiscing style that emerge very early in development, and we demonstrate how these diVerences inXuence both autobiographical memory and
emotional development across the preschool years. Although most of the
research focuses on emotionally positive experiences, we discuss the limited
research on parent-child narratives of more stressful events as well, and how
this may be related to the parent-child emotional relationship. We then turn
to a study currently in progress targeting pre-adolescent children, in which we
are exploring family narratives about both positive and negative shared experiences, and we discuss relations between individual diVerences in the process
of narrative interactions and childrens emotional well-being.

EARLY PARENT-CHILD REMINISCING

Children are surrounded by family stories virtually from birth. Parents begin
telling family stories to their children during infancy, well before children can
understand, let alone participate in, these narrative retellings (Fiese, Hooker,
Kotray, Schwagler, & Rimmer, 1997). As children grow older and become
more capable participants, parents begin to encourage and expect children to
engage in joint reminiscing (Eisenberg, 1985; Miller, 1994). Several researchers have described the ways in which families discuss past events with and
around children in everyday contexts (Fiese & Marjinsky, 1999; Miller, 1994;
Ochs & Capps, 2001). Most of these studies collect spontaneous family conversations and examine the ways in which narratives of past events emerge
within everyday activities such as chatting with family and friends, or family
talk over the dinner table. The resulting narrative descriptions highlight ways
in which individual identities and family relationships are deWned and clariWed within these conversational interactions.
In addition to revealing how families communicate, family narrative interactions are also related to child outcome. For example, Fiese and Marjinsky
(1999) rated family dinnertime narratives on coherence and emotional modulation. Parents appropriate modulation of aVect, but not overall conversational coherence, was linked to fewer behavior problems in children. Ochs,
Taylor, Rudolph, and Smith (1992) have further argued that family storytelling is a site for the socialization of self and other (see also Miller, 1994).
They examined the ways in which families re-tell the same stories, reworking
the narrative to explain and clarify. Their descriptions illuminate how these

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

57

give-and-take interactions go beyond inXuencing memories for the events;


they encourage perspective taking, critical thinking, theory building, and
relationship roles within the family.
Importantly, a great deal of research conWrms that there are individual differences in the ways in which parents reminisce about shared past experiences with their young children (Fivush & FromhoV, 1988; Hudson, 1990;
McCabe & Peterson, 1991). Many of these studies use a more directed elicitation of parent-child reminiscing and often focus on one parent and child
conversing about shared events. Level of elaboration has emerged as a critical
factor in diVerentiating individual styles of reminiscing (Farrant & Reese,
2000). Some parents show a highly elaborative style, frequently talking about
the past, and describing past experiences in rich and embellished detail. These
parents also encourage and aYrm their childrens participation in reminiscing. In contrast, other parents are less elaborative, talking about the past less
frequently, and when reminiscing, giving sparse detail about what happened,
often asking the same question over and over until the child responds. Less
elaborative parents do not try to elicit their childrens participation in reminiscing to the same extent as more elaborative parents, nor do they provide as
much feedback to their children during the conversation.
Critically, parental reminiscing style is not related to sheer amount of talk
in other contexts. Highly elaborative parents are not necessarily more talkative in a free play context with their young children (Haden & Fivush, 1996)
or more elaborative when reading stories together (Haden, Reese, & Fivush,
1996). Thus it seems that parental reminiscing style is speciWc to the goals
and functions of sharing the past. One of the central functions of reminiscing
about shared experiences is to create and maintain social and emotional
bonds (Fivush, Haden, & Reese, 1996; Bluck & Alea, 2002). Through coconstructing shared experiences together, parents and children are creating
shared histories that provide a sense of self in relation to others through time.
Parents who engage in more elaborated reminiscing provide a richer and
more detailed narrative of the shared past, thus facilitating a more diVerentiated and nuanced sense of self in their children. And, in fact, children of more
elaborative parents begin to tell more detailed and elaborated stories of their
own personal past than children of less elaborative parents by the end of the
preschool years (Harley & Reese, 1999; Reese, Haden, & Fivush, 1993).
Provocatively, there are gender diVerences in early parent-child reminiscing. Whereas there are few stylistic diVerences between mothers and fathers in
the way in which they discuss past events with their preschool children, both
mothers and fathers talk in greater detail and encourage and aYrm their
daughters participation in shared reminiscing to a greater extent than their

58

FIVUSH ET AL.

sons. In turn, girls tell more elaborated and detailed narratives of their own
past than do boys (Reese & Fivush, 1993; Reese, Haden, & Fivush, 1996).
Most important, when we share the past together, we move beyond recalling what happened and provide information about our emotional reactions
and feelings about the event (Labov, 1982). Parent-child reminiscing is rich
in emotional detail, although again, there are individual diVerences in the
extent to which parents and children share their past emotions, and these
diVerences are related to gender. Some research has found that mothers talk
in more emotionally elaborated ways about the past than fathers (Fivush,
Brotman, Buckner, & Goodman, 2000), but other studies have not found
diVerences between parents (Reese et al., 1996). However, a great many studies have now conWrmed that both mothers and fathers include more emotional detail when reminiscing with daughters than with sons (Adams, Kuebli,
Boyle, & Fivush, 1995; Fivush, 1989, 1991; Fivush et al., 2000; Fivush,
Berlin, Sales, Mennuti-Washburn, & Cassidy, 2003; Kuebli & Fivush, 1992).
And by the end of the preschool years, girls are talking about their past experiences in more emotional ways than are boys.
These patterns indicate that children are learning to tell the stories of their
lives through participating in early parent-child reminiscing. Parents who
reminisce in more elaborated ways, studding their conversation with rich
detail and emotional nuances, have children who develop more elaborated
and more emotional narratives of their personal past. But why are some parents more elaborative than others? If it is the case that parent-child reminiscing functions to create and maintain social and emotional bonds, then we
would expect diVerences in parental reminiscing style related to the parentchild emotional relationship. Through co-constructing the events of our lives,
we create emotional attachments that bond us together through time and
allow us to anticipate a shared future.

REMINISCING AND ATTACHMENT

One of the core constructs in conceptualizing parent-child emotional relationships is attachment. The mother-child attachment bond develops over
the Wrst year of the childs life, based on the kinds of social and emotional
interactions experienced (see Cassidy & Shaver, 1999, for an overview).
Mothers who are more sensitive and emotionally open to their childrens
needs have children who develop a secure sense of self in the world. In contrast, mothers who are less sensitive and less emotionally open have children

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

59

who feel more insecure. Securely attached infants are able to explore the physical and social world more easily and comfortably than insecure infants.
Although these early attachment relations are assumed to be nonconscious,
as children grow older, they develop working models of their relationships
with others (Bowlby, 1988; Bretherton, 1996). These working models are
assumed to be expressed and modulated through parent-child communication (Thompson, 2000). Securely attached dyads are theorized to be able to
converse in more emotionally open, integrative and coherent ways than insecurely attached dyads.
If a principal function of parent-child reminiscing is to create and maintain social and emotional bonds, then we would expect a relation to attachment status such that more elaborative parents would facilitate a more secure
attachment. Further, if attachment status allows for diVerential communication, then more secure attachment should facilitate more elaborative parentchild reminiscing. Thus, attachment and reminiscing style should be dialectically related across development. There is some emerging evidence that this
is the case. Both Fivush and Vasudeva (2002) and Farrant and Reese (2000)
have found that more securely attached dyads reminisce in more highly elaborated ways than less securely attached dyads.
A limitation of this research, however, is the focus on reminiscing about
mostly positive, child-centered events. Parent-child reminiscing about emotionally negative experiences is of great theoretical interest for several reasons.
First, whereas it seems obvious that reminiscing about emotionally positive
events facilitates emotional bonding, it is not at all clear that reminiscing
about negative events serves this same function. Instead, it seems that parents
may discuss negative experiences with their young children for very diVerent
reasons, including helping their children to understand how and why aversive
events occurred, how to understand and cope with these kinds of experiences
in order to alleviate negative aVect, and to teach children about how to avoid
such experiences in the future. Second, within attachment theory, it has been
hypothesized that security of attachment may be particularly important when
families confront negative experiences; a secure attachment relationship may
allow families to discuss stressful events more openly, leading to a greater
sense of social support in coping with these kinds of events (Bowlby, 1988;
Bretherton, 1996; Pillemer, 1998). Thus, the way in which families are able
to co-construct emotionally negative and stressful experiences during reminiscing may be related to childrens ability to cope with aversive events; those
families that are able to discuss past negative experiences in more emotionally
open and coherent ways may facilitate resilience in their children.

60

FIVUSH ET AL.

PARENT-CHILD REMINISCING
ABOUT NEGATIVE EVENTS

Only a few studies have explicitly examined parent-child reminiscing about


emotionally negative and stressful events. In Fivush et al. (2003), mothers
reminisced with their 4-year-old children about everyday events in which the
child experienced sadness, anger, and fear. Events discussed included such
things as losing a prized toy, having a conXict with a sibling or peer, and being
left at the babysittersclearly, events that all children experience on a regular basis. Conversations were coded for both style, along a dimension of elaboration, and content. Content included mentioning the cause of the emotional experience (e.g., Were you sad when Daddy went on a business
trip?), attributions of emotional reactions (e.g., I know you were sad. I was
sad, too.) and resolutions (e.g., But then we talked about it and you felt better, right?).
Overall, mothers were more elaborative with daughters than with sons,
and girls were more elaborative than boys. Across all three types of emotional
experience discussed, mothers focused more on causes than attributions or
resolutions, indicating that mothers are concerned with helping their children understand how and why they experience negative emotion. But when
discussing fear and sadness, mothers focus on resolving the negative aVect.
When discussing anger, in contrast, mothers focus on attributions of the
emotional state itself and talk little of resolution. These patterns suggest that
mothers are concerned with helping their children understand and cope with
fear and sadness more than anger. Moreover, sadness and fear are socially sharable; through discussing resolutions of negative aVect, parents and children
negotiate and resolve these feelings in a supportive conversational context.
Although anger is acknowledged, parents and children do not co-construct
narratives of anger that validate and resolve this emotion. Thus mother-child
reminiscing about everyday emotional experiences is a rich context for the
development of childrens emotional understanding and well-being. Through
participating in adult-structured reminiscing, children are developing a sense
of self as an emotional being, and learning how to evaluate, resolve, and share
everyday emotional experiences with others.
But what of more stressful, or even traumatic experiences? How might
mothers discuss truly aversive events with their children, and how might this
help young children to understand and resolve negative aVect? To date, only
two studies have examined this question. In Sales, Fivush, and Peterson
(2003), mothers reminisced with their preschool children about an injury

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

61

requiring outpatient emergency room treatment and about an emotionally


positive event. Parental reminiscing style was consistent across the two events;
those parents who were highly elaborative when discussing a positive event
with their children were also highly elaborative when discussing a negative
event, but the content diVered. Parents focused more on emotion overall, and
especially positive emotion, when discussing the positive event, and on causal
explanations when discussing the negative event. Similarly, Ackil, Waters,
Dropnik, Dunisch, and Bauer (1999) asked mothers and their 8- to 12-yearold children to discuss a tornado that had devastated their town a few weeks
earlier, as well as an emotionally positive event, and also found a focus on
causal explanation for the negative event. In this study, however, they found
more emotion talk overall about the negative than positive event. Again,
however, positive emotion was discussed more during the positive event and
negative emotion during the negative event. Not surprisingly, then, parents
discuss emotions consonant with the valence of the event. More interesting,
the focus on discussing causes in both studies conWrms that when discussing
emotionally negative events, parents are concerned with helping their children understand how and why such events happen, and possibly to help them
resolve these diYcult emotional experiences.
Across studies, the focus on discussing causes and resolutions of emotionally negative experiences and the relation between parental reminiscing style
and attachment status suggest that individual diVerences in family narrative
interactions may be critical in childrens developing emotional well-being.
Children whose families are better able to discuss their shared past experiences in more elaborative and emotionally open ways may help provide their
children with the tools necessary for understanding and resolving aversive
aVect.

FAMILY NARRATIVES
AND EMOTIONAL RESILIENCE

We are currently examining relations between family narratives and childrens


resilience more explicitly. Our focus is on working families with at least one
preadolescent child. As family structure becomes more complicated, with
both parents working in and out of the house, and negotiating more complex
parent and child schedules, the ways in which families reconstruct their
shared experiences together becomes a critical juncture for families to recreate
themselves as an emotionally cohesive unit (Fiese & Marjinsky, 1999; Ochs
& Capps, 2001).

62

FIVUSH ET AL.

We targeted families with a preadolescent child because the clinical literature suggests that the teenage years are particularly rife with family conXict
and this is the developmental period when children are most likely to begin
to have problems with identity that can lead to serious outcomes such as
delinquency, depression, and substance abuse (Carr, 1999; Lerner & Lerner,
2001). Our goal is to establish family patterns of communication that may
buVer children from the diYculties of navigating the teenage years, and our
plan is to follow these families over the next several years to assess long-term
relations among family narratives, family functioning, and individual outcome. Forty two-parent families with a target child between the ages of
9 and 12 years are participating. Thirty-three are dual-earner families, and
7 are single-earner families. Half of the families have a preadolescent daughter, 29 families are Caucasian, 5 are African-American, and 5 are of mixed
race. Thirty of the families are traditional nuclear families, 8 are blended
families, and 2 are extended families with at least one additional adult living
with them.
Here we present a subset of the data collected in the larger project:
elicited family narratives of shared positive and negative events. During a
home visit, a research assistant asked the family to discuss one emotionally
positive event that the family enjoyed together and one emotionally negative
event, something stressful that the family experienced together. The families
were free to select the events, and to discuss the events in whatever fashion
for whatever length of time they chose. Although families were instructed to
discuss the nominated events as they normally would amongst themselves,
some families occasionally spoke to the experimenter and provided background information during the narrative. However, despite these digressions
the conversations would always return to a family discussion. Conversational length varied widely among families, with some families discussing
these events for 4045 minutes and others only discussing the events for
5 minutes. Despite this, the range of events was not that variable from family to family. Almost all of the positive events selected were family vacations
or holiday gatherings, and most of the negative events were relatively normal stressors that all families face, such as death of a grandparent, death of
a pet, or a serious illness or accident of a parent or child, as described in
Table 3.1. Thus the negative events were within the range of normative
experience and represent the kinds of stressful events that virtually all families must deal with over time.
We are in the beginning stages of coding and analyzing these narratives.
Our initial coding focuses on how the family negotiates the telling of the
story. Based on previous research (Fiese & Marjinsky, 1999), but most impor-

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

63

TABLE 3.1
Description of Events

Positive Events:
Family vacations
Sibling birth
Sports/tournaments
Visits to/from relatives
Ceremony
Negative Events:
Death of friend/family
Death of pet
Childs illness/injury
Accident/disaster
Family conXict
Move to new city
Mishap during vacation
Parents illness

Number of Families

% of Families

31
3
3
2
1

78%
8%
8%
5%
1%

12
8
5
5
3
3
3
1

30%
20%
13%
13%
8%
8%
8%
1%

tant, emerging from the narratives themselves, we developed Wve characteristics that describe how families co-construct these narratives: collaborative,
cooperative, child-centered, facilitated/moderated, and disharmonious, as
summarized in Table 3.2. Note that the characteristics are not mutually exclusive. Because these are long and complex conversations, families may display
several of these characteristics in the course of sharing the event together.
Thus, we scored each conversation along each characteristic on a 0 to 3 scale,
such that 0 indicated the characteristic was not represented at all, 1 indicated
the characteristic was represented in a limited way, 2 indicated that the characteristic was well represented but not dominant, and 3 indicated that it was
the dominant characteristic represented in the narrative interaction. Thus,
conceptually, a family can be high on both collaborative narrative interaction
and also be child-centered, or high on facilitated/moderated narrative interaction but still disharmonious.
Two coders independently listened to each conversation as they read
through the transcripts and assigned each narrative a score of 0 to 3 on each
of the narrative characteristics. Across the Wve characteristics, coders agreed
93% of the time for both positive and negative events (range = 88% to 98%).
Disagreements were within one point an additional 6% of the time, with
disagreements of two points or more only occurring 1% of the time. All
discrepancies were then resolved through discussion. Table 3.3 shows the

64

FIVUSH ET AL.

TABLE 3.2
Description of Narrative Characteristics
Narrative
Characteristic

Description

Indicators

Instance Criteria

Collaborative

The narrative unfolds


as the family members
each add small bits
of information; the
narrative is being told
by all the participants
simultaneously, as if
they are all of one
mind.

Family members Wnish


each others sentences,
say the same thing
simultaneously, or
interrupt without
changing the topic.

Must include three


conversational turns,
one indicator and two
new pieces of
information.

Cooperative

Family members take


turns telling the story,
each telling their own
point of view.

Family members listen


to each other and are
allowed to Wnish their
own thoughts without
interruption.

Must include either


one speaker giving
several pieces of
information on one
topic or several speakers giving small pieces
of information on one
topic.

Child-centered

Parents try to elicit


information from the
children by asking
leading questions,
prompting them, and
giving them cues.

The conversation is
dominated by questions from parents and
responses by the
children.

An instance includes
the parents question
and the childs response; or if the child
does not answer, the
question alone can
be counted as an
instance.

Facilitated/
Moderated

The conversation is
moderated and
facilitated primarily
by one parent.

A single moderator
initiates topics,
chooses speakers, gives
extended monologues,
or ignores other family
members input.

A parent must exhibit


two of the indicators,
or one indicator two
times.

Disharmonious

Family members
appear to be disconnected, are not likeminded, and/or dont
have a shared understanding of events.

Mild disagreements,
denial of feelings, little
shared aVect, putdowns, complaining,
and parental lecturing.

One occurrence of any


of the indicators.

3.

65

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

Table 3.3
Mean Scores on Each Characteristic for Positive and Negative Events

Dimension
Collaborative
Cooperative
Child-Ctrd
Facilitated-Mod.
Disharmonious

Pos. Event Score

Neg. Event Score

Correlation betw/
Pos. and Neg. Scores

1.35
2.05
2.17
.12
.10

.73
2.13
2.07
.20
.30

.56*
.52*
.49*
.54*
.43*

*p < .01

mean scores on each characteristic for the positive and negative events, as well
as the correlations between the two characteristics across the two event types.
As can be seen, families most often displayed cooperative and child-centered
characteristics in these narratives, with little evidence of facilitated/moderated
or disharmonious interactions. Further, families showed similar characteristics of narrative interaction across positive and negative events. Still, there
was a great deal of individual variation from family to family in how they
co-constructed the narratives.
In the following sections, we provide more detailed descriptions and examples of each of these characteristics. In the following excerpts, TC
stands for target child, the preadolescent child that is the focus of our assessment. Other children in the family are indicated as Sib1, Sib2, and so
on. Not surprisingly, it was fairly common for family members to speak over
one another. Because this kind of information was important for coding the
narrative characteristics, we adopted notation to indicate overlapping speech.
The symbol < was used to indicate the moment when a second speaker
began talking and the symbol > was used to indicate the moment when the
second speaker was no longer speaking over the initial speaker. Thus, the
speech that was spoken at the same time was enclosed in the symbols across
conversational turns.

COLLABORATIVE INTERACTIONS

In conversations with collaborative characteristics, family members each


added diVerent pieces of the story and expanded on what others contributed.
All of the conversational turns Wt together as an integrated whole, which

66

FIVUSH ET AL.

resulted in a conversation that was richer and more complex than any of the
individuals could have told on their own. Laughing, good-natured joking and
teasing, and requests for telling the story were also present. The following is
part of a collaborative exchange between the mother and the preadolescent
son about the younger daughter being burned by hot food:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
TC:
Mom:
TC:

Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:

We <were at Auntie Monas house.


We> were at Auntie Monas house.
Because I wasnt going over <there
And>
I was dropping yall oV. I, I was leaving yall over there, I think or
<something.
I think> And um so there w- were these gr-grits Gabrielle was gonna eat
for breakfast and so and, and um <so
They> were sitting on the table.
So, they were very hot and then,
I guess, well Auntie Mona had Michael put them in the microwave.
<They were those instant (unintelligible) microwaves.
And > sh-she, I think she overcooked them.
So they were very <hot,
She> was letting them cool oV.
And then and she was letting them cool oV, and I had a um, magnifying
glass and I um there was, they had the light and so it was under the light
and I put the magnifying glass, um right on the um, on the <um
over> the bowl, the grits,
over the bowl and for um, a couple of seconds and then David called me
downstairs and, and um,
No, <she accidentally,
We>
And then she
and then she accidentally
and then she <um
touched it>

Note how the mother and child both Wnished each others sentences and continued to add new information while the story developed into an integrative
account of what happened. Neither dominated the story, but each added
additional details in a coherently evolving narrative. Overall, in collaborative
interactions family members create a shared narrative in which they agree on
what happened and what it meant. When there is confusion about what happened, they work through the details and come to a shared understanding
and perspective.

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

67

COOPERATIVE INTERACTIONS

In narratives typiWed by this characteristic, family members take turns telling


the story and encourage each other to contribute. Family members engage in
polite turn-taking (waiting their turn instead of talking over one another),
asking each other questions (How did you feel about . . .), and verifying
information (yeah, mmm-hmm). They listen to each other and are
allowed to Wnish their own thoughts. In this excerpt, the family is discussing
when the family pet died:
Mom: Thats because he was sick. You know and there was that big cancerous
spot <there.
TC: And I > remember sitting on couch back there watching you all cry
(unintelligible)
Mom: Yeah. Do you remember how old you were?
Sib1: But I remember you didnt cry because you werent that close <to him.
Dad: I bet> Eric (the target child) was in Wrst grade then.
TC: Hmmm.
Mom: Yeah, yeah and then we had ah. Daddy and I brought Max in the car so
that the veterinarian could put Max to sleep.
TC: Mmm.
Mom: And I think I took it the hardest because Max was in our lives since Stacy
(the daughter), I was pregnant with Stacy.
Sib1: Before.
Mom: And Max was our Wrst baby, Daddy and I.
Sib1: Because I, I looked in the photo albums and saw a picture of you and
Dad both holding Max by the balloons saying that you were going to
have a baby, which was me.
Mom: Yeah. And thats why Max was in our life all that time and it was real sad
when we had to put him in the car. And Daddy remembers this cuz I
dont think, Daddy, Keith you havent uh was that the Wrst dog you put
to sleep?
Dad: Yeah, it was horrible. It was not . . . it wasnt . . . it was horrible. Um
Max, Max tolerated me. Max was a real good dog and he tolerated
me. . . .

Note how family members are encouraged to give their own perspective, and
nearly every new piece of information was veriWed by another family member.
But in contrast to a collaborative interaction, new contributions do not build
a coherent story, but rather each expresses the speakers individual role and
perspective.

68

FIVUSH ET AL.

CHILD-CENTERED INTERACTIONS

In child-centered narrative interactions, parents help their children tell the


story by asking leading questions, prompting them, and giving them cues.
Parents ask questions intended to solicit responses from the children and not
to learn new information; parents often know the answers to these questions.
In this excerpt, the family is recalling their vacation in Europe:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
TC:
Dad:
Mom:
TC:
Mom:
Dad:
Sib 1:

What did you like the most about the trip to Europe?
I liked it when we went to uh (unintelligible) Castle.
Why did you like that?
It was really fun. It was just fun.
What did you like the most?
In the castle?
I liked the food.
You liked the food? <Just like your brother, huh? (Laughs)
Yeah.> What did you like the most?
I liked the castle.

At the beginning of the conversation, both parents encourage the children to


participate by asking broad, open-ended questions. Parents conWrm the childrens answers, and then ask for elaboration. The parents obviously wanted
the children to do the talking; they did not interact much between themselves, and they focused their attention on the children. After asking a few
very broad questions, more speciWc questions were intended to elicit as much
information from the children as possibleboth factual and emotional.
Here is a conversation about another familys trip to Brazil:
Dad:
TC:
Dad:
TC:
Sib 1:
Dad:
Sib 1:
Dad:
TC:

Was it a vacation or was it something you had to do?


Vacation.
So what do you remember about the trip out there?
<Uh . . .
That we would have to run around and eat some French-fries.
Thats all you remember that you ate some French-fries <and . . .
We went scuba diving.
You went scuba diving.
And then we got to get really close to Wsh and we got to um, we went
down water slides on tubes.

Parents ask open-ended questions, allowing their children to chose among


multiple possible topics, and then encourage their children to continue to tell
the story by repeating and conWrming their responses. Through this kind of

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

69

questioning, parents provide a loose organization within which the children


tell the story. It is possible that families demonstrated this characteristic
because of the nature of the task; families knew we were interested in their
preadolescent child (this is how they were recruited into the study) and therefore they may have interpreted the task as one in which they were suppose to
elicit their childrens memories of these family events. Still, not all families
engaged in this kind of interaction, and most who did showed other narrative
characteristics as well.
FACILITATED/MODERATED INTERACTIONS

A narrative dominated by this characteristic was moderated and facilitated


primarily by one parent. Other family members did little to initiate topics of
conversation, but rather followed the lead of the moderator. In contrast to
child-centered interactions, the questions are not open-ended, allowing children to tell the story in their own way. Rather, the parent asks pointed questions to lead the narrative in a particular direction. In the following narrative,
the father orchestrated the entire conversation. As he initiated the conversation about the target childs participation in a baseball league, he introduced
a theme which he continued throughout the narrative:
Dad: . . . And what was remarkable about the experience for us is that Kyle
(target child) was unknown, untested and new at this. And what position
did you start oV uh batting order?
TC: Uh, second?
Mom: <No, no, no.
Dad: No, no, no.> At the beginning of the year, what . . ?
TC: Eighth.
Dad: Eighth. You were eighth batting order, which means you were one of the
worst hitters there. And then how did you move up during the year?
Mom: By hitting. (Laughs) <By hitting the ball.
TC: Uh, the best>, then to second.
Dad: Second.
TC: Then back to second.
Dad: Then back to second. And, in the beginning of the year, you started oV
playing what position?
TC: Left Weld.
Dad: And then what position did you Wnish at the end of the year?
TC: First base.
Dad: First base! From the outWeld to the inWeld and from eighth in the batting
order to second.

70

FIVUSH ET AL.

The father continues to lead the other family members throughout the conversation to tell a particular story about the sons improvement over the season that culminated in the playoVs. Importantly, when other family members
contribute, their contributions, and especially their evaluations of the event
are re-interpreted by the father:
Dad: Kyle, why dont you take the story from here about the playoVs since you
were in em.
TC: We started oV with six teams then three of the teams played each other
and then theres four teams watching. And um then two of the teams . . .
one team plays another team and then another team plays another team
and uh . . . Well, everyone goes to the championship and we won one of
those and we went to the championship and we won the championship.
Dad: You won three straight playoV games and so, for us, it was remarkable to
see a team that Wnished in the middle of the standings sweep at the end.
And there was much excitement and much joy and Kyle contributed a lot
to the teams winning.

Even when he explicitly asks for his sons contribution to the story, the father
takes back the Xoor, and re-narrates the events to conform to his own perspective. Thus in facilitated/moderated interactions, one parent takes on the
role of the narrator, and scaVolds the familys narration. In addition to providing the storyline, the parent also provides a particular perspective on why
this event was memorable and important, and may even impose this perspective on other family members.

DISHARMONIOUS INTERACTIONS

During disharmonious exchanges, family members appeared to be disconnected, not like-minded, and did not have a shared understanding of the
event. It must be emphasized that instances of this characteristic were isolated,
and did not dominate the entire conversation. In this example, the mother
and child are discussing a friend who had been living with them moving away,
and they have a disagreement about the daughters emotional reaction:
Mom:
Sib 1:
Mom:
Sib 1:
Mom:
Sib 1:

Does it make you sad?


No.
Youre not sad any more?
No.
You were sad this afternoon.
No I wasnt.

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

Mom:
Sib 1:
Mom:
Sib 1:
Mom:
Sib 1:
Mom:
Sib 1:

71

Yes you were.


I wasnt.
What were you?
Happy.
You were happy? Youre happy shes moving?
Yeah.
You get more space in the house?
Yeah.

Rather than accepting the childs assertion that she was not sad, the mother
insists that she was sad that afternoon. Disharmonious exchanges can also
include name-calling. Many families did tease each other or call each other
names in a joking manner. However, in disharmonious interactions, participants were serious as they put down other members of their family. Finally,
some families also used their conversation time to lecture their children.
These exchanges were counted as disharmonious when either the parent or
the child showed some negative aVect while lecturing or being lectured to
(frustration, anger, sadness, exasperation). Again, these exchanges were not
conducted in a teasing manner; the parents wanted the children to realize
what they did wrong. In this example, the event involved the child crashing
his bike through a window just as the family was leaving for vacation.
Dad: Seems I recall asking him to put the scooter in the garage.
(3 exchanges take place in between)
TC: It was leaning this way and I was going to make it lean this way but I
didnt catch it and it went through. So I was gettin ready to go put it up.
Mom: But if you had put it up when you were told to put it up in the Wrst
place, do you think that would have happened?
TC: No. (long pause) No. (louder, again a pause) No! (child almost yells this
last response).
Mom: Okay.

The mother wanted to make the point that if the child had listened to his
stepfather and put the bike away when he was supposed to, this incident
would not have happened. When she asked him whether or not he thinks the
incident wouldve taken place if he had listened, she waits for several seconds
each time the child says No. The child became frustrated (or angry), and
raised his voice each time he repeated his answer. Once the mother thought
she adequately made her point, she says okay, and the conversation changes
direction. Again, no family was disharmonious across the entire conversation,
but a few families displayed these disharmonious characteristics at several
points during the interaction.

72

FIVUSH ET AL.

IMPLICATIONS AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS

As already discussed, we argue that the ways in which families reminisce about
the events of their lives has implications for childrens developing sense of self
and emotional well-being. How might these diVerent narrative characteristics
be related to these issues? Families that narrate the past in collaborative ways
weave stories that are mutually shared. Most important, family members
build the narrative together, each additional piece of information contributing to a coherent narrative told from a shared, uniWed perspective. In this way,
collaborative narratives may help children to understand themselves as part of
a cohesive family unit that shares a mutual understanding of important
events. Cooperative interactions, in contrast, do not build a uniWed narrative,
but rather form individual but still validated narratives. Family members actively solicit and conWrm each others versions of what happened, leading to a
narrative told from multiple individual perspectives. Cooperative interactions
may help children build a sense of self as an individual, separate from but still
supported by other family members, as well as helping children learn how
other family members react to and evaluate events. Both collaborative and cooperative interactions are emotionally open and involve sharing among all
family members, but each focus on a diVerent sense of self-construal.
Child-centered interactions also solicit and validate the childs view of the
event, but, whereas in cooperative interactions all members of the family share
their perspective, in child-centered interactions the parents do not present
their own view. The childs perspective is accepted and validated but is not
shared by or interweaved with other family members perspectives. Thus, in
child-centered interactions, children are learning to deWne self as separate but,
unlike in collaborative and cooperative interactions, they are not simultaneously learning how others may think about the past. In this way, children are
learning about self as an individual but may not be learning how to place their
own individual perspective in the context of the family. The mirror image
of this style is facilitated/moderated, in which the childs perspective may be
solicited but is not validated. Instead, the parent imposes a particular form on
the narrative and even a particular perspective. Children are learning that self
is deWned as a part of the family and this is further deWned as having a speciWc,
imposed perspective (as opposed to a negotiated, shared perspective as in collaborative interactions). Finally, disharmonious interactions lead to a fragmented sense of self; the child is deWned in opposition to rather than as a part
of the family unit, and interactions are emotionally negative. The childs perspective is not validated; indeed, it is often explicitly contradicted.

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

73

Again, we emphasize that most families show elements of many characteristics, and therefore, not surprisingly, childrens sense of self emerging from
these interactions is complicated and multilayered. Indeed, it may be the case
that families that show a balanced use of all Wve characteristics lead to the
most diVerentiated sense of self and the greatest sense of emotional well-being
in their children. Further analyses on our data set will hopefully answer some
of these questions.
From a clinical perspective, researchers have expanded their focus in recent
years from intervention and prevention only to also consider the ways in
which children and adults overcome adversity in their private and public
lives. Practicing clinicians, for example, have reported a signiWcant increase in
cases dealing with family stress, childhood fears, and general adjustment
problems. In addition, several books have appeared which have as their main
focus the topics of increasing resilience (e.g., Brooks & Goldstein, 2002;
Reivich & Shatte, 2002) and of the salutary eVects of storytelling on wellbeing and adjustment in adults and children (Smith, 1990). Finally, one cannot ignore the potential immunizing eVects (though not yet documented) of
works such as the books by Lemony Snicket in which the child protagonists
demonstrate resilience by overcoming terrible situations (Snicket, 2001).
In addition to examining the relation between family reminiscing interactions and well-being, our project will also delve into the ameliorative or
immunizing beneWts of narrative content. This component reXects clinically
derived hunches that the telling of family stories appears to mediate the
development of resilience in children. While not systematic, there is much
experiential data to suggest that children raised in families that tell stories
about themselvesfamily histories, family legends seem to raise children that have a lower incidence of maladjustment as well as better prognoses
for recovery. Through clinical interviews and other diagnostic techniques and
through case studies, clinicians and educators have long known the beneWts
of the sense of stability, continuity, and strength that seems to arise when children know of their background, the good things as well as the bad. Again, we
hope to address these issues in further analyses of the family narratives and
relations between the narratives and standardized measures of family and
child functioning.

CONCLUSIONS

In this chapter, we reviewed individual diVerences in how families co-construct


shared experiences and how these diVerences are related to various aspects of

74

FIVUSH ET AL.

childrens social and emotional well-being. During the preschool years, when
children are just beginning to share their experiences with others, more elaborative parents facilitate the development of narrative skills, such that children of highly elaborative parents come to tell more detailed and embellished
narratives of their personal past. Moreover, parents who reminisce in more
emotionally elaborative ways have children who come to tell more emotionally rich narratives of their own past. Intriguingly, elaborative reminiscing
is related to attachment, suggesting that parents and children who are coconstructing more embellished narratives of their shared past are creating and
maintaining strong and secure emotional bonds. Our current research with
families with preadolescent children extends these Wndings. Our preliminary
analyses of these conversations focuses on individual diVerences in the ways
in which families co-construct stories of emotionally positive and negative
events, and reveals intriguing diVerences in this process. Most important, this
research illustrates that family narratives are not simply about what has happened in the past; they are very much a part of the way in which families
recreate themselves as a social and emotional unit in the present.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Some of the research reported in this chapter was supported by a grant from
the Sloan Foundation supporting the Emory Center for Myth and Ritual in
American Life. We would like to thank Justin Rowe, Stacy Zolondek, Carla
Gober, Jean Mennuti-Washburn, Deborah Yunker and Amber Lazarus for
help in data collection and preparation.
REFERENCES
Ackil, J., Waters, J., Dropnik, P., Dunisch, D., & Bauer, P. (1999, April). From the eyes of the
storm: Mother-child conversations about a devastating tornado. Poster presented at the biennial meetings of the Society for Research in Child Development, Albuquerque.
Adams, S., Kuebli, J., Boyle, P., & Fivush, R. (1995). Gender diVerences in parent-child conversations about past emotions: A longitudinal investigation. Sex Roles, 33, 309323.
Bluck, S., & Alea, N. (2002). Exploring the functions of autobiographical memory. In J. D.
Webster & B. K. Haight (Eds)., Critical advances in reminiscing work: From theory to application (pp. 6175). New York: Springer.
Bowlby, J. (1988). A secure base: Clinical applications of attachment theory. London: Routledge.
Bretherton, I. (1996). Internal working models of attachment relationships as related to
resilient coping. In G. G. Noam & K. W. Fischer (Eds.), Development and vulnerability in
close relationships (pp. 327). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

3.

FA M I LY N A R R AT I V E S A N D C H I L D R E N S W E L L - B E I N G

75

Brooks, R., & Goldstein, S. (2002). Nurturing resilience in our children. New York: NTC
Publishing.
Carr, A. (1999). Handbook of child and adolescent psychology. London: Routledge.
Cassidy, J., & Shaver, P. R. (1999). Handbook of attachment: Theory, research and clinical applications. New York: Guilford.
Eisenberg, A. (1985). Learning to describe past experience in conversation. Discourse Processes,
8, 177204.
Farrant, K., & Reese, E. (2000). Attachment security and early mother-child reminiscing: A developmental exploration. Manuscript submitted for publication.
Fiese, B. H., Hooker, K. A.., Kotray, L., Schwagler, J., & Rimmer, M. (1997). Family stories
in the early pages of parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 763770.
Fiese, B. H., & Marjinsky, K. (1999). Dinnertime stories: Connecting family practices with
relationship beliefs and child adjustment. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child
Development, 64 (2, Pt. 3), 5268.
Fivush, R. (1989). Exploring sex diVerences in the emotional content of mother-child talk
about the past. Sex Roles, 20, 675691.
Fivush, R. (1991). Gender and emotion in mother-child conversations about the past. Journal
of Narrative and Life History, 1, 325341.
Fivush, R., Berlin, L., Sales, J. M., Mennuti-Washburn, J., & Cassidy, J. (2003). Functions of
parent-child reminiscing about negative events. Memory, 11, 179192.
Fivush, R., Brotman, M., Buckner, J. P., & Goodman, S. (2000). Gender diVerences in parentchild emotion narratives. Sex Roles, 42, 233254.
Fivush, R., & FromhoV, F. (1988). Style and structure in mother-child conversations about the
past. Discourse Processes, 11, 337355.
Fivush, R., Haden, C., & Reese, E. (1996). Remembering, recounting and reminiscing: The
development of autobiographical memory in social context. In D. Rubin (Ed.), Reconstructing our past: An overview of autobiographical memory (pp. 341359). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Fivush, R., & Vasudeva, A. (2002). Remembering to relate: Maternal reminiscing style and
attachment. Journal of Cognition and Development, 3, 7390.
Haden, C., & Fivush, R. (1996). Contextual variation in maternal conversational styles.
Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 42, 2451.
Haden, C., Reese, E., & Fivush, R. (1996). Mothers extratextual comments during storybook
reading: Maternal style over time and across texts. Discourse Processes, 21, 135170.
Harley, K., & Reese, E. (1999). Origins of autobiographical memory. Developmental Psychology, 35, 13381348.
Hudson, J. A. (1990). The emergence of autobiographic memory in mother-child conversation. In R. Fivush, & J. A. Hudson (Eds.), Knowing and remembering in young children (pp.
166196). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Kuebli, J., & Fivush, R. (1992). Gender diVerences in parent-child conversations about past
emotions. Sex Roles, 12, 683698
Labov, W. (1982). Speech actions and reaction in personal narrative. In D. Tannen (Ed.) Analyzing discourse: Text and talk. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press.
Lerner, J., & Lerner, R. (Eds). (2001). Adolescence in America. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (1991). Getting the story: A longitudinal study of parental styles
in eliciting narratives and developing narrative skill. In A. McCabe, & C. Peterson (Eds.),
Developing narrative structure (pp. 217253). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

76

FIVUSH ET AL.

Miller, P. J. (1994). Narrative practices: Their role in socialization and self-construction. In


U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds.), The remembering self: Construction and accuracy in the life
narrative (pp. 158179). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Ochs, E., & Capps, L. (2001). Living narrative: Creating lives in everyday storytelling. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Ochs, E., Taylor, C., Rudolph, D., & Smith, R. (1992). Storytelling as a theory-building activity. Discourse Processes, 15, 3772.
Pillemer, D. (1998). What is remembered about early childhood events? Clinical Psychology
Review, 18, 895913.
Reese, E., Haden, C., & Fivush, R. (1993). Mother-child conversations about the past: Relationships of style and memory over time. Cognitive Development, 8, 403430.
Reese, E., Haden, C., & Fivush, R. (1996). Mothers, father, daughters sons: Gender diVerences in reminiscing. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 29, 2756.
Reese, E., & Fivush, R. (1993). Parental styles for talking about the past. Developmental Psychology, 29, 596606.
Reivich, K., & Shatte, A. (2002). The resilience factor: Seven essential skills for overcoming lifes
obstacles. New York: Broadwat Books.
Sales, J. M., Fivush, R., & Peterson, C. (2003). Parent-child conversations about positive and
negative events. Journal of Cognition and Development, 4, 185210.
Smith, C. (1990). From wonder to wisdom: Using stories to help children grow. New York: New
American Library.
Snicket, L. (2001). A box of unfortunate events. New York: Harper Collins.
Thompson, R. (2000). The legacy of early attachments. Child Development, 71, 145152.
Wilson, B. (1998). Blue windows: A Christian Science childhood. New York: Picador.

4
Coherence and Representations
in Preschoolers Narratives:
Associations With Attachment
in Infancy
Efrat Sher-Censor
David Oppenheim
University of Haifa

Discussions of oral narratives often distinguish between the organization and


the content of narrativeswhat some refer to as the how versus the what
of the narrative. This distinction refers to two levels of analysis: The Wrst looks
at the coherent link between the elements of the narrative the how, and
the second looks at the narrative themes and the way story protagonists are
portrayedthe what. The central discovery from recent attachment research, and particularly from the work of Main involving adults narratives
regarding their childhood attachment experiences (Hesse, 1999; Main, Kaplan, & Cassidy, 1985), is that the individual diVerences most pertinent for
assessing attachment representations are revealed in the coherence of the narratives adults tell about childhood relationships, and that the content, what
interviewees describe, is less relevant. The goal of this chapter is to describe a
study that applied this critical distinction to the narratives of preschoolers by
assessing separately the coherence and the content of such narratives, and
linking these assessments to the preschoolers attachments to their mothers as
measured when they were infants. Before we describe the study, we open with
a review of the main concepts of attachment theory, emphasizing attachment
behavioral strategies in infancy and their assessment, as well as Internal Working Models (IWMs) of attachment and their inXuence on childrens information processing. This is followed by a review of previous attachment/narrative
studies, as well as the hypotheses that guided the present study.

77

78

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

ATTACHMENT THEORY
INTRODUCTION

According to attachment theory (Bowlby, 1967/1982), infants are preadapted to seek their caregivers proximity in order to receive comfort, soothing, and protection. Depending on the caregivers sensitivity in responding
to these needs, infants develop, toward the end of their Wrst year of life,
behavioral strategies designed to manage their distress (Ainsworth, Blehar,
Waters, & Wall, 1978; Bowlby, 1967/1982; De WolV & van IJzendoorn,
1997). These strategies can be assessed using the Strange Situation Procedure
(SSP; Ainsworth et al., 1978), a validated laboratory procedure (van IJzendoorn & Kroonenberg, 1988) that involves a series of increasingly stressful
episodes, including short separations between the infants and their caregivers.
In assessing infants strategies, special emphasis is given to their behaviors
towards their caregivers during the reunion episodes.
In an optimal attachment relationship, referred to as secure attachment,
infants express their attachment needs freely and expect to receive sensitive
and responsive reactions from their caregivers (Bowlby, 1967/1982). In
the SSP such infants, referred to as securely attached and designated B, seek
their caregivers physical or psychological proximity and calm down quickly
(Ainsworth et al., 1978). When the caregivers are less sensitive, insecure
attachment relationships develop: Infants whose attachment behaviors are
usually ignored or rejected by their caregivers learn to avoid expressing their
attachment needs. In the SSP such infants, designated A, turn or walk away
from their caregivers or refuse to interact with them (Ainsworth et al., 1978).
When the caregivers are inconsistently sensitive to their infants bids for comfort and soothing, infants learn to maximize their attachment signaling. This
strategy is displayed in the SSP by infants ambivalent behaviors (e.g., a desire
for proximity mixed with angry behavior) or prolonged expressions of distress
(Ainsworth et al., 1978). These infants are designated C. Finally, when
caregivers behave incoherently or in frightened or frightening ways towards
their infants, the infants might have transient breakdowns in their behavioral
strategy (Main & Hesse, 1990; Main & Solomon, 1986). This disorganized
strategy, designated D, is displayed in the SSP through contradictory features of attachment strategies (e.g., combination of resistance and avoidance)
or through showing odd behaviors, such as freezing or showing stereotypic
movements (Main & Solomon, 1986).

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

79

INTERNAL WORKING MODELS OF ATTACHMENT

With development, childrens attachment patterns become internalized as


Internal Working Models (IWMs) that include representations of the attachment Wgures availability and responsiveness in particular contexts and also
complementary representations of how worthy the children are of receiving
care. In addition, IWMs also consist of rules that guide childrens processing
of attachment-related information and their regulation of aVect and behavior
(Bowlby, 1967/1982; Bretherton, 1985). Secure children develop Xexible,
open, and free access to their thoughts, feelings, and memories related to
attachment. In contrast, insecurely attached childrens access to attachmentrelated thoughts, feelings, and memories are limited, distorted, or biased,
with diVerent types of insecurity associated with diVerent types of information-processing biases (Bretherton & Munholland, 1999).
Children with avoidant attachments are prone to use defensive exclusion
of their rejection experiences due to the anxiety they cause. Thus, alongside
the IWMs of the rejecting or disappointing aspects of the attachment Wgure
and the unworthy or incompetent child, which may be inaccessible to consciousness, avoidant children may develop another, incompatible positive set
of IWMs which are accessible to awareness. To maintain the separation
between these incompatible IWMs, avoidant children distance themselves
from negative aVect, emotional needs, and closeness (Bowlby, 1967/1982).
Ambivalent children construct IWMs of their caregiver as inconsistently available and responsive (Ainsworth, 1984), leading to biased information processing toward frightening aspects of the environment and to heightening
negative emotional expression (Cassidy, 1994; Kobak & Sceery, 1988).
Finally, disorganized children have fragile IWMs that appear to break down
under stress (Cassidy, 1988; Solomon & George, 1999.)
This aspect of IWMs, namely, the way they shape information processing
regarding attachment related issues, is of critical importance for studies
involving the assessment of attachment using narrative approaches (Oppenheim & Waters, 1995). Childrens narrative productions are probably not
simple reXections of their representations of the other and the self (e.g., a
secure child portraying a parent showing nurturance and sensitivity in
response to the childs distress vs. a child with avoidant attachment portraying a parent ignoring or rejecting the childs bids for closeness). Rather, their
narrative productions will be signiWcantly shaped by the rules that govern

80

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

access to attachment-related information. Thus, we might expect secure childrens narratives to openly, coherently, and in an emotionally regulated way
include nurturance as well fear, sadness, and anger themes in their narratives.
Insecurely attached childrens narratives, in contrast, might be characterized
by lack of openness and coherence, involving overemphasis of either positive
or negative themes, and by diYculties in maintaining regulation and Xexibility when narrating about such themes. In sum, we might expect diVerences
not only in the content of these childrens narratives but also in the coherence
of their narratives. These ideas have received some support from studies of
childrens IWMs of attachment assessed through the narratives they produce,
and we review these next.

RESEARCH ON INTERNAL WORKING MODELS


USING NARRATIVE TECHNIQUES

Two narrative techniques have been employed to study preschoolers attachment representations. The Wrst was an adaptation of the Separation Anxiety
Test (SAT; Klagsburn & Bowlby, 1976), which consists of a set of pictures
showing parents and children in a series of increasingly stressful attachmentrelated scenes (e.g., a child watches a parent leave). Preschoolers were asked to
respond to the SAT pictures by describing how the child in the picture feels
and what he will do and what they themselves would do in similar situations
(Slough & Greenberg, 1990). The second, which was also used in the study
described in this chapter, involved story-completion tasks in which children
were asked to construct narratives about attachment related themes (Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Oppenheim, 1997; Solomon, George, &
DeJong, 1995; Waters, Rodrigues, & Ridgway, 1998) as well as other aVective themes (Cassidy, 1988; Green, Stanley, Smith, & Goldwyn, 2000) in
response to story stems presented to them using a family of dolls. The dolls
were used in order to facilitate the narrative production of younger children
for whom a purely verbal task might be too diYcult. Findings from studies
using these techniques have shown that childrens attachment as assessed in
infancy (Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Main et al., 1985) or concurrently (Cassidy, 1988; Shouldice & Stevenson-Hinde, 1992; Slough &
Greenberg, 1990; Solomon et al., 1995) was meaningfully related to their
narrative productions.
Secure children tended to construct coherent stories (Solomon et al., 1995).
They also tended to express emotional openness and describe the protago-

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

81

nists negative feelings, or volunteer information about their own separation


experiences (Main et al., 1985; Slough & Greenberg, 1990; Shouldice &
Stevenson-Hinde, 1992). In their narratives they portrayed emotionally available caregivers and children who are cooperative, worthy of the caregivers
support and capable of dealing constructively with the problems presented in
the story stems (Bretherton Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Cassidy, 1988;
Solomon et al., 1995; Waters et al., 1998). In contrast, insecure children did
not complete the task or said they did not know what happened next. Some
gave incoherent or unorganized responses and failed to deal with the story
stems main issues, or failed to bring their stories to an integrated resolution
(Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Main et al., 1985; Solomon et al.,
1995). Additional features were speciWc to the type of insecurity characterizing the child.
Insecure-avoidant children tended to avoid discussing attachment issues.
They lessened the importance of the relationships between the child-protagonist and his or her mother, denied the separation between them, or described schematic and aVectless events during the separation and reunion
(Cassidy, 1988; Solomon et al., 1995). Caregivers were described by the
preschoolers as unavailable emotionally and the child protagonists as rejected
(Cassidy, 1988). Insecure-ambivalent children tended to describe enjoyable
events during separation stories while including in their narratives many
events, and losing the main storyline (Solomon et al., 1995). In the SAT they
tended to show mostly anger responses (Shouldice & Stevenson-Hinde,
1992). Children who were classiWed as insecure-controlling (a category which
is thought to be related to disorganized classiWcation in infancy; Teti, 1999)
tended to show more diYculties in their responses compared to other children. Some of them had diYculties creating a story. Those who succeeded
tended to show confusion in feeling or in identiWcation with the child protagonist, and others included illogical elements or destructive and violent
themes (Shouldice & Stevenson-Hinde, 1992; Solomon et al., 1995). They
also tended to portray children and caregivers who either were helpless or
were frightening and abusive (Solomon et al., 1995). Taken together the studies of childrens attachment narratives reveal theoretically coherent links
between such narratives and independent, observational assessments of childrens attachments to their mothers. The Wndings also raise four issues, and
these provide the background for the present study.
The Wrst issue involves distinguishing between the content and the coherence of narratives. The coding systems used in the studies reviewed earlier in
this chapter involved assessments of both the content and the coherence of

82

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

the narratives without a clear distinction between the two. In Cassidys study
(1988), for example, only the content of the stories was examined, and
Bretherton, Ridgeway, and Cassidy (1990) examined content as the criterion
for security and incoherence as the marker of insecurity. In the Solomon et al.
(1995) study the two criteria are combined in one classiWcation system, and
this is similar in the SAT scales (Main et al., 1985; Shouldice & StevensonHinde, 1992; Slough & Greenberg, 1990). Because, as reviewed earlier, the
content/coherence distinction has emerged as central in the analysis of adult
attachment narratives, it seems important to apply it systematically in the
study of child narratives as well. Therefore, the present study examined separately the links between attachment in infancy and the coherence and content
of preschoolers narratives. In examining the coherence of the narratives, we
used the Robinson, Mantz-Simmons, MacWe, & The MacArthur Narrative
Working Group (1992) Coherence scale. The scale measures the Xuency of
the narrative as well as the way narrators address the problem in the story
stem: their acknowledgment and understanding of the problem and its resolution. In examining the content of childrens narratives, we focused on the
domains deemed relevant to attachment in previous research (Bretherton,
Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990): the degree to which children portray the child
protagonist and parental Wgures as competent in dealing with emotionally
stressful situations.
The second issue involves the distinction between avoidant and ambivalent attachments. There were only a few infants with ambivalent attachments
in the studies reviewed previously, as is typical for studies conducted in North
America and Western Europe (van IJzendoorn & Sagi, 1999). Due to this
limitation we know much less about the expression of ambivalence in child
narratives. Because the emotion and attention regulation strategies characteristic of ambivalent attachments are quite diVerent (and perhaps even opposite) from those characteristic of avoidant attachment (Cassidy & Berlin,
1994; Dozier & Kobak, 1993), there is reason to believe that the expression
of ambivalence in child narratives might be quite diVerent from that of children with avoidant attachment. The present study, conducted in Israel where
most insecurely attached children have ambivalent attachments, provided an
opportunity to examine this issue.
The third issue is that only two of the studies mentioned herein were longitudinal and examined the link between attachment in infancy and later narratives (Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Main et al., 1985), whereas
the other studies used concurrent assessments of attachment and narratives
using the Cassidy and Marvin (1989) coding system. The validity of this
assessment, particularly in terms of longitudinal links with infant-mother

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

83

attachment has received little support, however (Bar-Haim, Sutton, Fox, &
Marvin, 2000). Therefore an additional goal for this study was to replicate
the Wndings linking attachment as assessed in infancy using the well-validated
Strange Situation with preschoolers narratives.
A Wnal issue was that most of the studies reviewed included only attachment-related stems or did not make clear distinctions between these stems
and stems about other emotional issues. Thus it is unclear whether the Wndings are speciWc to narratives about attachment issues, which would be consistent with the idea that narrative methods assess IWMs of attachment, or
whether the Wndings are more general and involve childrens narration about
a wider range of aVective themes. Therefore, The MacArthur Story Stem Battery (MSSB; Bretherton, Oppenheim, Buchsbaum, Emde, & MacArthur
Narrative Group, 1990), which includes story stems that cover a range of
emotional issues, was used in the present study, and a distinction was made
between stories about attachment themes and stories about other emotional
themes. We describe the MSSB next.

THE MSSB

The MSSB is a structured story-completion task in which children are presented with story beginnings, or stems, and are asked to complete the stories. The development of the MSSB was inXuenced by psychoanalytic play
therapy (e.g., Erikson, 1950; Freud, 1946) as well as by research on early
emotional (e.g., Wolf, Rygh, & Altshuler, 1984) and cognitive development
(e.g., Nelson & Gruendel, 1981). The MSSB was designed to gain insight
into childrens inner worlds, including their representations of interpersonal
relationships with family and peers and their moral understanding (for
review, see Bretherton & Oppenheim, in press). Therefore, the story beginnings portray a variety of emotional issues drawn from childrens everyday
life, including family conXicts, transgressions, and attachment-related interactions in which children are in need of comfort and security.
The story stems begin with a background setting, followed by a complication or a problem that the protagonist has to face. The stems are enacted
using a standard doll family in a dramatic and playful way designed to engage
the child. The examiner ends the enactment at the climax of the drama, leaving room for the child to decide how to deal with the presented problem and
in which direction to lead the story. The MSSB is the most commonly used
story-stem assessment of childrens emotion narratives, and there is considerable evidence regarding its validity: MSSB narratives have been linked to

84

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

parent-child narrative co-constructions (Oppenheim, Emde, & Wamboldt,


1996; Oppenheim, Nir, Warren, & Emde, 1997), childrens social competence (Page & Bretherton, 2001), behavioral problems (Oppenheim, 2003;
Oppenheim, Emde, & Warren, 1997; Toth, Cicchetti, MacWe, Rogosch, &
Maughan, 2000; von Klitzing, Kelsay, Emde, Robinson, & Schmitz, 2000),
and emotional dysregulation (Robinson, Herot, Haynes, & Mantz-Simmons,
2000). The MSSB was also found to be associated with measures reXecting
the childs immediate environment, including parental psychological distress
(Oppenheim, 2003) and child maltreatment (Buchsbaum, Toth, Clyman,
Cicchetti, & Emde, 1992; MacWe et al., 1999; Toth et al., 2000). Nine of the
14 MSSB story stems that appeared to be most productive in previous studies were used in the current study. The story stems were grouped according
to their content: Three stories involved attachment themes, three described
emotional conXicts, and three involved transgression themes.
In sum, our hypotheses were: (a) The narratives of children who were
securely attached to their mothers as infants would be more coherent than the
narratives of children who were insecurely attached (ambivalent or disorganized); (b) children who were securely attached to their mothers in infancy
would describe in their narratives more competent children and caregivers
compared to children who were insecurely attached (ambivalent or disorganized); and (c) children who were disorganized in their attachment to their
mothers in infancy would include more aggressive and destructive themes in
their narratives than children who had organized attachments (i.e., secure or
ambivalent) in infancy.
METHOD

Participants

One hundred thirteen children and their mothers were selected for longitudinal investigation from a larger sample of 758 infant-mother dyads (Sagi,
Koren-Karie, Gini, Ziv, & Joels, 2002). Participants were recruited when the
infants were born. Inclusion criteria for mothers were: a nonrisk pregnancy, a
minimum of 2 years residence in Israel, and mastery of the Hebrew language.
When children approached the age of 4.5 years, a subsample was contacted
again and invited to participate in the follow-up study (Oppenheim, KorenKarie, & Sagi, 2001). The majority (89%) of mothers with whom successful
contact was established agreed to participate in the study. Children in the
present study were selected based on their attachment classiWcations in infancy with the intention to create a sample with a large proportion of insecure

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

85

children. All ambivalent (C) and disorganized (D) infants whose classiWcations were available at the time of the follow-up were therefore included in the
present study. A group of randomly selected (except for approximately equal
representation of both genders) secure (B) infants approximately equal in size
to the C group was selected. No avoidant (A) infants were included, since the
avoidant classiWcation is extremely rare in Israel (van IJzendoorn & Sagi, 1999).
The present sample constituted 45 B (24 girls, 21 boys), 47 C (24 girls, 23
boys), and 21 D (10 girls, 11 boys) children.1 Mean age of the children at the
follow-up was 54.9 months (range 5356 months). Mean number of children in the participating families at the time of the follow-up was 2.6 (range
15). Twenty-nine percent of the children were Wrst-borns. Mean age of
mothers at the time of the follow-up was 33.8 (range 2445). At the time of
recruitment, when the children were infants, all families were intact. At the
time of the follow-up, 97% remained intact, 1% was divorced, and 2% were
widowed. Maternal education ranged between 10 and 20 years of education
(M = 13.6 , SD = 2.07). Comparisons of the participants in the follow-up
sample with the larger sample of 758 participants revealed no signiWcant differences in SES, number of children, birth order of the target child, maternal
education, and maternal age.
Procedure

Between the ages of 12 and 16 months (M = 12.51) infants and their mothers were invited to a laboratory playroom and were observed in the SSP.
The procedure was videotaped. At the age of approximately 4.5 years, the
children and their mothers were invited to the laboratory playroom again for
a 1.5-hour visit. After several joint tasks for the children and their mothers,
they were separated. Subsequently, the children participated in the MSSB.
The entire task was videotaped. Following the MSSB, an examiner administered to the child a vocabulary test.
Assessments
Strange Situation Procedure (SSP)

The SSP is a well-known and validated procedure (Ainsworth et al., 1978;


van IJzendoorn & Kroonenberg, 1988), and therefore is described in brief:
1 The original sample included 120 children. Two of them did not engage in the MSSB.
The scores of additional Wve children on the Vocabulary sub-test of the WPPSI-R (Wechsler,
1967/1973) were 1 standard deviation below the mean or lower. Therefore, these seven children were not included in the study.

86

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

The procedure involves a series of increasingly stressful episodes (8 episodes,


3 minutes each), observed in a laboratory playroom. The episodes include
two separations and two reunions of infant and mother. Based on their
behavior, infants are classiWed into one of four attachment patterns, of which
one is a secure pattern and three are insecure patterns: Secure (B) securely
attached infants calm down quickly when their mothers return. Upon reunion they show minimal resistance to the mother or avoidance of her. The
three insecure patterns are:
1. Avoidant (A)avoidant infants do not seek proximity to their
mothers upon reunion, but rather avoid them.
2. Resistant/ambivalent (C)these infants seek contact with their
mothers, but at the same time resist them. Some C infants are
unable to settle down during the reunion episodes.
3. Finally, Disorganized (D) infants show momentary absence of any
particular strategy to deal with the separation stress. They display
inconsistent or odd behaviors (Main & Solomon, 1986).
Interrater reliability (kappa) based on 59 participants was .81 on the A/B/C/
D classiWcation system. DiVerences between coders were conferenced, and
consensus codes were used.
MacArthur Story-Stem Battery (MSSB)

The MSSB (Bretherton, Oppenheim, et al., 1990) is composed of a series


of story beginnings describing a range of emotion-laden family interactions.
Story stems are presented to the children using a family of dolls in an animated, dramatic manner, and all of them end with the invitation: Show me
and tell me what happens now. In order to facilitate childrens narratives, the
examiner uses nondirective comments, such as Does anything else happen in
the story? If the children do not spontaneously address the main issues of the
story, they are asked standard nondirective prompts regarding those issues.
For example, in one of the story stems the younger sibling hurts her hand.
If the child does not address this theme, the examiner asks him or her: Does
anybody do anything about the hurt hand? The examiner proceeds from one
story stem to the next only after the child deals with the main issues in the
story stem or after he or she is given a second chance to do so, using the
probes just mentioned. Nine story stems from the battery were translated to
Hebrew and used in this study (see Appendix 4.1). The entire episode was
videotaped.

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

87

Coding Childrens Narratives. Childrens narratives were transcribed


verbatim and were coded from the videotapes and the transcripts. Narratives
were rated on three scales:

1. Coherence. The scale, developed by Robinson et al. (1992), ranges from


0 to 10. The scale examines three aspects of narratives: their Xuency, the
childs understanding of the problems presented in the story stems, and the
resolution of the problems. The odd scores are: 0 child does not comment
about the story stem, 1fragmented story with shifts in story line, 3 child
understands the conXict but does not oVer resolution; a portion of the story
may be incoherent, 5child understands the conXict and handles it by using
a simpliWcation of the story, 7child understands the story and oVers a resolution; a short story with no embellishment, 9 child understands the
conXict and oVers a resolution that includes embellishment; there are no
incoherent segments. For the purpose of the present study, the original
Robinson et al. scale (1992) was elaborated. This included developing speciWc
criteria for understanding the conXict, simpliWcation, and resolution for each
story stem. In addition, the coding of coherence was aided by two newly
developed indexes: Number of shifts in the storyline, where shift is deWned
as an illogical change in the story line, and number of aggressive and destructive
themes, which involved the number of themes in the childrens stories that
describe severe aggressive acts toward characters in the story (e.g., parents are
severely beating each other, father kills the older child, the monster kills the
family) or catastrophes (e.g., the house burns, the child drowns in the sea).
The shifts and aggressive and destructive themes indexes were used to
Wne-tune the coherence rating, so that if a narrative included several shifts or
aggressive themes the coherence score was lowered (see Wagner, 2001). The
aggressive and destructive themes index was also used as an independent score
because Solomon et al. (1995) indicated that such themes may be particularly
characteristic of children with disorganized attachments.
Two coders who were blind to childrens attachment classiWcations coded
the coherence of childrens story completions. Because aggressive and destructive themes were rare, this index was converted into a dichotomous variable
indicating presence or absence of such themes in each story group. Interrater
reliability (Kappa) of the aggressive and destructive themes index based on
26 participants was 0.91. Interrater reliability (Pearson correlation) of the
coherence scale based on 29 participants was 0.75. DiVerences between
coders were resolved by discussion and consensus codes were used.
2. Competent child representations. A 5-point scale based on the security
criteria in Bretherton, Ridgeway, and Cassidy (1990) assessed the degree to

88

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

which the child-protagonist was described as dealing competently with the


issues raised in the story stem. The scale ranged from scores of 1 or 2, describing the child protagonist as ignoring the problem, being aggressive, helpless,
failing to resolve the issue, or taking the role of the caregiver, to 5, describing
the child as directly dealing with the issue at hand in an appropriate way and
resolving the issue. As in the coherence scale, speciWc criteria were developed
regarding what are inappropriate, simpliWed, and competent reactions for
each story stem.
3. Competent caregiver representations. A 6-point scale, also based on the
security criteria in the Bretherton, Ridgeway, and Cassidy (1990) study,
assessed the degree to which the caregivers were described as dealing competently with the issues raised in the story stems. The scale ranged from low
scores of 1 or 2, describing the parent as getting hurt in the beginning of the
story, disappearing, being helpless, or not being able to resolve the main issues
of the stem, to 6, describing the caregiver as dealing with the issue in a competent way and being successful in resolving the issue. Here, too, speciWc criteria were developed for each story stem regarding what are inappropriate,
simpliWed, and competent reactions.
Three coders who were blind to childrens attachment classiWcations coded
the two representations scales. Inter-rater reliability (interclass correlation
coeYcient) based on 40% of the stories was .85 for the competent child representations scale and .86 for the competent caregiver representations scale.
DiVerences between coders were resolved by discussion, and consensus codes
were used.
As mentioned previously, the stories were divided into three groups: attachment stories (Monster, Separation, and Reunion); emotional conXict stories (Mothers Headache, Three Is a Crowd, and Lost Keys), and transgression
stories (Spilled Juice, Hot Gravy, and The Bathroom Shelf ). The scores of
each of the scales were averaged across the three narratives within each group.
Child Vocabulary

Children were administered the Vocabulary subtest of the WPPSI-R


(Wechsler, 1967/1973), and their scores were calculated using the tests norms.

RESULTS

We begin by examining the relations between the narratives and background


variables. Next we present the associations among the three scales within each

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

89

of the story groups, and then we turn to examine the relations between attachment classiWcations in infancy and the narrative scales.
Preliminary Analyses
Gender Differences

While gender and coherence in the attachment stories were only marginally associated (t = -1.72 , p = 0.09), associations were found between gender and coherence in the emotional conXict stories and transgression stories.
Compared to boys, girls narrated more coherent emotional conXict stories
(Mgirls = 5.01, Mboys = 4.25, t = -1.11, p < 0.02) and transgression stories
(Mgirls = 5.61, Mboys = 5.04, t = -1.00, p < 0.03). Gender was also related to
the competent child representations scale: Girls described in their emotional
conXict and transgression stories more competent children compared to
boys (Mgirls = 4.48, Mboys = 3.86, t = -1.62, p < 0.001 and Mgirls = 4.23,
Mboys = 3.93, t = -0.82 , p < 0.051 in the two story groups respectively).
There were no gender diVerences on competent child representations scale
in attachment stories. Finally, gender was associated with competent caregiver representations scale in the attachment stories: Compared to boys, girls
described more competent caregivers (Mgirls = 4.56, Mboys = 4.24 , t = -0.87,
p < 0.04). Consistent with most attachment studies, no association was
found between attachment classiWcations and gender (c2 (2, N = 113) =
.19, ns).
Vocabulary

Positive correlations were found between childrens vocabulary and coherence in the attachment stories (r (111) = .17, p < .04), emotional conXict
stories (r (112) = .27, p < .002) and transgression stories (r (112) = .25,
p < .004). Because gender was also associated with the coherence scale in two
of the three story groups, we examined next whether the gender diVerences
we found in coherence were a function of gender diVerences in vocabulary.
ANCOVAs comparing coherence scores of boys and girls while controlling
for vocabulary ruled out this possibility: The association between gender and
coherence scores in emotional conXict and transgression stories remained signiWcant (F (2, 109) = 6.74, p < .011; F (2, 109) = 5.03, p < .027, respectively). Childrens vocabulary was not associated with the competent child
representations or with the competent caregiver representations scales. In
addition, childrens vocabulary was not associated with attachment classiWcations (F (2, 109) = .12 , p > .886).

90

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

Intercorrelations Among Narrative Scales

The narrative scales were positively correlated among themselves and across
stories. SpeciWcally, the coherence scale was positively correlated with the
competent child representations and with competent caregiver representations scales in all three story groups, with correlations ranging between .23
and .50 (all ps < .007). The competent child representations scale was positively correlated with the competent caregiver representations scale in all
three story groups as well, with correlations ranging between .27 and .33 (all
ps < .002). Most inter-correlations of the scales across stories were positive
and signiWcant. More speciWcally, the inter-correlations of the coherence scale
ranged between .64 and .70 (all ps < .001), the inter-correlations of the
competent caregiver representations scale ranged between .23 and .30 (all
ps < .01). The inter-correlation of the competent child representations scale
in attachment and transgression stories was not signiWcant (r (100) = .03,
p > .39). The inter-correlations of this scale in the attachment and emotional
conXict narratives and in transgression and emotional conXict narratives were
positive and signiWcant (r (98) = .27, p < .004, r (111) = .25, p < .004, respectively), however. Thus, although there were quite a few signiWcant correlations across the stories, we examined the links with attachment separately for
each scale and for each story group for the reasons described earlier.
Attachment in Infancy, Gender,
and the Narrative Scales

Because we found signiWcant associations between gender and the narrative


scales we Wrst computed Wve 2-way ANOVAs with attachment classiWcations
in infancy and gender as factors and the dependent variables found to be
associated with gender: coherence in the transgression and emotional conXict
stories, competent child representations scores in emotional conXict and
transgression stories and competent caregiver representations scores in the
attachment stories. No signiWcant interactions were found in these analyses.
The subsequent analyses were therefore conducted for the sample as a whole.
Attachment in Infancy and Coherence

Following Olds et al. (2002), we transformed the coherence scores into


dichotomous variables with scores between 0 and 5 considered incoherent,
and scores between 6 and 10 considered coherent. The idea behind this strategy was to highlight the number of incoherent stories children told (i.e., the

4.

91

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

TABLE 4.1
Mean Number of Coherent Narratives
According to Attachment ClassiWcations in Infancy

Story Group
Attachment
Emotional conXict
Transgression

Secure
M (SD)

Ambivalent
M (SD)

Disorganized
M (SD)

t(B vs. C)

t(B vs. D)

1.73 (.34)
1.39 (.35)
1.52 (.34)

1.49 (.34)
1.23 (.33)
1.49 (.34)

1.62 (.32)
1.24 (.32)
1.44 (.35)

1.7**
1.2**
.20

.63
.90*
.43

*p < .05. **p < .01.

bottom part of the coherence scale) and to de-emphasize individual diVerences within the coherent range of the scale (i.e., the top part of the scale).
The cut-oV point was 5, since scores of 6 and above describe stories that
have all the required elements of a coherent story an organized storyline
that addresses openly the main problem of the story stem and ends with a resolution of the problem without resorting to a simpliWed solution. The dichotomized coherence scores were averaged across the three stories within each of
the three story groups. Next, we computed three sets of planned comparisons
with attachment classiWcations as the independent variable and the coherence
scores as the dependent variables. B children, as hypothesized, had more
coherent attachment stories compared to C children (see Table 4.1). There was
no signiWcant diVerence between the mean number of coherent attachment
stories of B and D children. As hypothesized, B children also had more coherent emotional conXict stories compared to C as well as D children. Finally, in
contrast to our hypotheses, no signiWcant diVerence was found in the number
of coherent transgression stories between B, C, or D children.2
Attachment in Infancy and Competent
Child Representations

A planned comparison with attachment classiWcations as an independent


variable, and competent child representations in the attachment stories as the
dependent variable, revealed that, as hypothesized, D children described in
their narratives less competent children than B children (see Table 4.2). B and
C children did not diVer signiWcantly from one another. Contrary to our
2 We also examined the relations between attachment classiWcations in infancy and the original coherence scores (i.e., before they were dichotomized). Planned comparisons revealed
identical results, with one diVerence: When considering the full range of the scale, D children
did not diVer signiWcantly in their coherence from B children in emotional conXict stories.

92

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

TABLE 4.2
Competent Child Representations Scores
According to Attachment ClassiWcations in Infancy

Story Group
Attachment
Emotional conXict
Transgression

Secure
M (SD)

Ambivalent
M (SD)

Disorganized
M (SD)

t(B vs. C)

t(B vs. D)

4.19 (1.12)
4.3 (1.07)
3.93 (1.06)

4.19 (1.01)
4.16 (1.04)
4.18 (.98)

3.65 (1.11)
3.94 (1.03)
4.18 (.74)

.01
.32
-.62

.91*
.64
-.49

*p < .05.

hypotheses, planned comparisons with attachment classiWcations as independent variable and competent child representations in both the transgression and
the emotional conXict stories as dependent variables revealed no signiWcant
diVerences.
Attachment in Infancy and Competent
Caregiver Representations

A planned comparison with attachment classiWcations as the independent


variable and competent caregiver representations in the attachment stories as
the dependent variable revealed that, as hypothesized, B children described in
their narratives more competent caregivers than C children (see Table 4.3).
B and D children did not diVer signiWcantly from one another. Contrary to
our hypotheses, planned comparisons with attachment classiWcations as the
independent variable and competent caregiver representations scores in the
transgression and emotional conXict stories as dependent variables did not
reveal signiWcant diVerences.
TABLE 4.3
Competent Caregiver Representations Scores
According to Attachment ClassiWcations in Infancy

Story Group
Attachment
Emotional conXict
Transgression
*p < .05.

Secure
M (SD)

Ambivalent
M (SD)

Disorganized
M (SD)

t(B vs. C)

4.57 (.86)
3.96 (1.21)
4.61 (.79)

4.22 (.95)
3.65 (1.24)
4.46 (.71)

4.49 (1.05)
3.64 (1.26)
4.76 (.46)

.84*
.58
.51

t(B vs. D)
.14
.47
-.41

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

93

Attachment in Infancy and Aggressive


and Destructive Themes

Our third hypothesis was that D children would include more aggressive and
destructive themes in their narratives compared to children who had organized attachment classiWcations (either B or C) in infancy. In order to examine this hypothesis we combined the B and C groups into one, non-D group.
A one-tailed chi-square test revealed a signiWcant association between the
D attachment classiWcation in infancy and aggressive and destructive themes
in the attachment stories (c2 (1, N = 113) = 8.41 , p = .004, Fishers Exact
Test). D children were more likely to show aggressive and destructive themes
than non-D children in their attachment stories. One-tailed chi-square tests
did not reveal signiWcant associations between the D attachment classiWcation
in infancy and aggressive and destructive themes in the emotional conXict stories (c2 (1, N = 113) = .228, p = .168, Fishers Exact Test) and the transgression stories (c2 (1, N = 113) = .16, p = .182, Fishers Exact Test).
DISCUSSION

The coherence of preschoolers narratives and, to a certain extent, the content


of their narratives as reXected in the representation of competent coping with
stress of child and adult protagonists, were found to be linked to childmother attachment assessed 3.5 years earlier, when the children were infants.
These Wndings are in accordance with Mains work (Main et al., 1985) about
adults attachment narratives. As described earlier, Main as well as other
researchers (see van IJzendoorn, 1995) have consistently found that what was
most signiWcant in characterizing adults security was their capacity to talk
about their experiences coherentlythat is, in an open, objective, succinct,
and collaborative manner. Our Wndings suggest that assessment of coherence
can be meaningfully and appropriately applied not only to the narratives of
the linguistically competent and mature adult but also to the story completions of young children. In addition, the link between coherence and security
found in adults can also be shown with respect to the young child. To our
knowledge ours is the Wrst study to examine the coherence and content of
child narratives separately and show the speciWc securitycoherence links.
We also found some links between attachment in infancy and the content of
childrens narratives. Preschoolers who were secure in infancy portrayed more
competent caregivers in their attachment narratives than did preschoolers who

94

SHER-CENSOR AND OPPENHEIM

had ambivalent attachments, and they also described more competent children in these narratives compared to preschoolers who had disorganized
attachments. These Wndings, while somewhat less strong than the coherence
Wndings (at least in terms of the number of the associations), are consistent
with previous studies linking preschoolers narratives and attachment. They
indicate that secure preschoolers are more likely to portray caregivers and
children as handling attachment-related stressful situations competently. We
now continue the discussion by focusing separately on secure, ambivalent and
disorganized children.
Secure Attachment and Preschoolers Narratives

As mentioned previously, children who had secure attachments to their


mothers as infants tended as preschoolers to narrate attachment and emotional conXict stories that were more coherent when compared to children
who had ambivalent and disorganized attachments in infancy. Faced with
story stems describing evocative emotional themes such as separation from
parents, being afraid of an imaginary monster, and witnessing an argument
between parents, they completed the story stems with a clear narrative that
not only openly referred to these themes but also brought them to resolution.
Compared to ambivalent children, they also were more likely to portray competent caregivers in their attachment narratives, and compared to disorganized children were more likely to portray competent children in these
narratives.
Consider, for example, the story completion of a girl classiWed secure as an
infant. In this story stem the child wakes up during the night hearing a noise,
and she cries out: Theres a monster in my room!
Child as narrator:
Child as Hagit:
Child as parents:
Child as Hagit:
Child as parents:
Child as mother:
Child shows mother startling
and asking father:
Child as Hagit:
Child as narrator:
Examiner:

Mom and Dad are talking: Did you hear that


Hagit (the child protagonist) is crying?
Mom, Dad, theres a monster in my room.
What monster?
Can you hear the noise?
Oh! Its behind her!
Oh, its just a spider, a real one . . . Ahh!
(feigning fear)
Is this a real spider?
Yes.
The spider went to sleep. It was tired.
Does anything else happen?

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

Child as narrator:
Examiner:
Child as narrator:

95

And then Dad . . . (Child is looking for other


dolls in the examiners box)
Does anything else happen?
Now dad took a pistol. He went and searched,
and now he found the monster. He shot with
the pistol bang, bang and it is dead. They
threw it away to the garbage can, and then they
all lived happily ever after.

As can be seen in this example, this secure child constructs a coherent and
Xuent story with a well-organized storyline. She clearly understands the problem of the scary monster posed in the stem and addresses it openly. She
describes and enacts the protagonists and the parents emotional reactions to
the source of danger (the protagonist cries, the parents are concerned about
her distress, and later mother expresses her fear of the spider). Moreover, she
succeeds in Wnding a resolution. The Wrst solution she develops, in which
the spider goes to sleep, appears not to satisfy her, so she moves on to Wnd a
better, irreversible solution: The father faces the spider, and kills it. The story
ends with closurethe spider is dead, thrown away, and they live happily
ever after. The childs security is also expressed in the competence she attributes to the child and parents. The child protagonist, Hagit, actively seeks help
from her parents by calling them and telling them what happened. The parents are responsive to her cry, and the father helps resolve the problem: He
searches for the monster-spider and kills it.
This case example is in accordance with the way secure IWMs are conceptualized. The eVective responses secure children receive are thought to be
internalized (Bowlby 1967/1982), and it is possible that such internalizations
were reXected in the descriptions of competent caregivers we discovered in
childrens story completions. Furthermore, secure children are presumed to
develop complementary representations of the self as worthy of care and
capable of dealing with problems, and it is possible that these representations
were reXected in their descriptions of the child protagonists dealing eVectively
with the stressful situations or openly communicating their need for help.
The coherence and representations of the narratives of secure children
may also be a function of the parent-child communication patterns of which
they were a part. As suggested by Fivush and colleagues (chapter 3, this volume) and Peterson and McCabe (chapter 2, this volume), childrens narrative
skills are shaped by parent-child communication. Furthermore, both theory
(Bretherton & Munholland, 1999; Oppenheim & Waters, 1995) and research (Etzion-Carasso & Oppenheim, 2000; Koren-Karie, Oppenheim,
Haimovich, & Etzion-Carasso, 2003; Main et al., 1985) have suggested that

96

SHER-CENSOR AND OPPENHEIM

security of attachment is reXected in open, coherent, and Xexible mother-child


dialogues. Such dialogues are therefore likely to promote coherence in secure
childrens independent narration (Oppenheim et al., 1997), such as the narratives provided on the MSSB.
Ambivalent Attachment and Preschoolers Narratives

Compared to secure children, ambivalent children tended to have fewer coherent attachment and emotional conXict stories. These preschoolers seemed
to have diYculties in keeping an organized storyline and/or in openly addressing the themes and bringing them to a resolution. Ambivalent children also
tended to describe less competent caregivers when dealing with attachment
issues, compared to children who were secure in infancy. The monster story
of an ambivalent child can exemplify these diYculties:
Child:
Mother wakes up.
Examiner: Can you show me how?
Child:
Like that. And then Gil (the protagonist) told her what was going
on.
Examiner: What did he tell her?
Child:
That . . . I have to think.
Examiner: You can think.
Child:
I dont know.
Examiner: And then what did he tell her? She woke up and came, and then
what happened?
Child:
She told him: What is that noise?
Examiner doesnt understand the childs words and asks him to repeat.
Child:
Gil said that it was a monster.
Examiner: And then what happens?
Child:
He wanted to go and see what was going on.
Examiner: Yes.
Child:
I dont know.
Examiner: And then what happened?
Child:
I dont know.
Examiner: Try to think.
Child:
But I dont know.
Examiner: You can make up whatever you want . . . what happened after Gil
wanted to know what was going on?
Child:
I dont know.
Examiner: What did they do? Lets think, did they do anything else? Did they
say anything?
Child:
I dont know.

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

Examiner:
Child:
Examiner:
Child:
Examiner:
Child:
Examiner:
Child:

97

So what happened regarding the monster?


I dont know.
How does the story end?
I dont know.
What happened to the monster?
It went away fast.
And the story ends like this?
Yes.

The story constructed by this child lacks coherence: It is not Xuent, and
although the child expresses an understanding of the problem (the mother
responds to her childs cry, and both mother and child are aware of the problem), the child does not succeed in developing a story and in Wnding a way to
resolve the problem. Only after many prompts the child brings the story to an
end, but he uses a simpliWed solutionthe monster goes away. No explanation is oVered regarding the process that led to its leaving. In addition, the
maternal Wgure is not portrayed as competent in a time of need. Although the
mother responds to her child (she wakes up and inquires about the noise), she
does not face the monster or help in any other way to calm the child down.
These portrayals are consistent with what we know about ambivalent
attachments. It has been suggested that mothers of ambivalent children are at
times as responsive as the mothers of secure children, but at other times are
unresponsive (Ainsworth, 1984). Due to this inconsistency it is hard for
ambivalent infants to develop conWdent expectations of their caregivers, and
this lack of conWdence is presumed to be reXected in their IWMs. In this
study we found that ambivalent children reXect such expectations in their
story completions by portraying a caregiver who rejects, ignores, or is incompetent in helping the child protagonist in the stressful attachment situation.
The incoherence of ambivalent preschoolers narratives might reXect their
biased information processing. These children, as already mentioned, are presumed to have a bias toward the frightening aspects of the environment and
towards negative emotional expressions (Cassidy, 1994; Kobak & Sceery,
1988). Presented with stressful emotional story stems, such bias might make
it diYcult for them to construct a narrative with an organized storyline concerning the stressful issue, and to bring the issue to resolution.
As in the case of secure children, childrens narratives might also reXect
their experiences communicating with their parents about aVective issues.
Mothers who were classiWed as preoccupied in the AAI (a classiWcation that
parallels the ambivalent classiWcation of infants in the Strange Situation; van
IJzendoorn, 1995) have been found in several studies to show diYculties in
scaVolding their children and in leading an open and coherent dialogue with

98

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

them (Crowell & Feldman, 1988, 1991; Kobak, Ferenz-Gillies, Everhart,


& Seabrook, 1994). These diYculties in mother-child dialogue might be
reXected in the preschoolers own narration as well, as was seen in this study.
Taken together, these Wndings suggest that children who were ambivalently attached to their mothers in infancy experience more diYculties as
preschoolers in narrating about emotionally laden issues, compared to children who were securely attached in infancy. These Wndings extend previous
narrative work (Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990; Cassidy, 1988;
Solomon et al., 1995), which focused primarily on discriminating between
secure and insecure/avoidant classiWcations, and rarely had suYcient ambivalent children to examine their narration.
Disorganized Attachment and Preschoolers Narratives

Infants who were disorganized in infancy seem to continue to show markers


of absence or breakdown of their behavioral and regulatory strategies later on
in their development (Cassidy, 1988; Lyons-Ruth & Jacobvitz, 1999; Solomon & George, 1999). Based on this argument we expected that preschoolers who had disorganized attachments as infants would be less coherent and
portray less competent Wgures compared to secure children. Also, we expected
them to present aggressive and destructive themes in their narratives more
often than preschoolers who had organized (secure or ambivalent) attachments as infants. These hypotheses were only partially supported.
Preschoolers who were classiWed disorganized as infants tended to have
fewer coherent emotional conXict stories, compared to secure children. They
also tended to portray less competent child Wgures in their attachment narratives than secure preschoolers. This Wnding is in accordance with the Solomon et al. (1995) study, in which controlling children (the behavioral pattern
thought to reXect disorganization at the preschool years) tended to narrate
stories that portrayed child Wgures as out of control, potentially destructive,
or helpless. Also consistent with Solomon et al. is our Wnding that D-type
children expressed more aggressive and destructive themes in their attachment stories. For example, in the separation story stem some of these children
described the child protagonists as severely beating each other and the grandmother Wgure during the separation, while others described an injury or even
death of the child who remained under the supervision of grandmother.
However, in contrast to our hypotheses and the Solomon et al. study, D-type
children did not tend to portray less competent caregivers in their narratives,
and their attachment and transgression narratives were not less coherent than
B-type children. Also, it should be mentioned that while children classiWed D

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

99

had more aggressive and destructive themes than non-D children, only one
third of D children included such themes. Thus, such themes are clearly not
characteristic of all children classiWed as Disorganized.
D children, in sum, showed some diYculties in their narratives compared
to B and C children, but did not emerge in this study as performing consistently worse than all other children, as might be expected. One possible
explanation is that the narrative measures we used were not sensitive enough
to detect the unique expressions of disorganization. Another possibility is lack
of stability of the D classiWcation. Because we did not have a concurrent attachment measure it is possible that the children classiWed disorganized as
infants were no longer disorganized as preschoolers. It should be recalled that
only one previous study using narratives found signiWcant diVerences between
the narratives of D and non-D children (Solomon et al., 1995), and in that
study the narrative assessments and attachment classiWcations were concurrent. Moreover, studies of D childrens emotional and behavioral adaptation
in the years after infancy, particularly when dealing with children from lowrisk samples such as ours, are not conclusive (for review of these studies see
Lyons-Ruth & Jacobvitz, 1999). Thus, while we found that preschoolers who
had disorganized attachments as infants showed markers of diYculties when
narrating about attachment and emotional conXict topics, the mixed picture
of our Wndings calls for more research and for caution in reaching sweeping
conclusions about the narratives of these children.
Domain Specificity: Different Findings
in Different Stories

The use of the MSSB, which includes not only story stems that target attachment themes but also story stems about other emotionally laden themes,
permitted us to examine whether the link between attachment and later narratives is speciWc to story stems about attachment or is also evident in story
stems raising other emotional themes. Our Wndings indicated that the links
were not general, and did not cut across all emotion narratives. In general,
and perhaps not surprisingly, attachment narratives were most productive in
revealing attachment-related diVerences. Both the coherence and the content
of these narratives were related to attachment in infancy. Emotional conXict
narratives were less productive. Their coherence, but not their content, was
related to attachment. Last, the transgression narratives were the least productive, revealing no relations with attachment in infancy.
Thus, childrens responses to the story stems appear to relate to the speciWc
emotional domain tapped by the stems. Our Wndings suggest that attachment

100

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

and transgression are seen by children as, and may very well be, distinct emotional domains. While transgression and morality are clearly very central in
the life of preschool children, there are no consistent Wndings regarding links
between these domains and attachment. Although it has been suggested (for
review, see Bretherton, Golby, & Cho, 1997) that mothers of secure infants
tend more than mothers of insecure children to sensitively combine explanations in their discipline (Stayton, Hogan, & Ainsworth, 1973) and that their
children in infancy (Stayton et al., 1973) and toddlerhood (Londerville &
Main, 1981) show more signs of internalization of moral values, other studies have shown that toddlers security of attachment is not related to maternal
observed discipline style and is only moderately correlated with maternal selfreports about discipline practices (Kochanska, 1995). Moreover, Kochanska
found that although both attachment quality and maternal discipline practices are possible antecedents for socialization, their impact is moderated by
child temperament (Kochanska, 1995, 1997).
The results of this study highlight the importance of the speciWc emotional
domains raised in the story stems and suggest that children respond in a discriminated way to the stems based on the emotional domains they tap. We
oVer two implications for research: First, researchers are advised to select from
the MSSB story stems based on their focus of interest (and may also construct
additional story stems if the domain is not suYciently covered in the MSSB;
Bretherton & Oppenheim, 2003). Second, while it is common to aggregate
measures across story stems in order to increase reliability, this strategy may
mask important diVerences between the stories. Even when measures obtained
from the stories are signiWcantly correlated with each other (as were the measures in this study), permitting the creation of an aggregate score, it is quite
possible that associations with an external correlate (such as attachment, in
this study) are speciWc to some, but not all, stories.
Gender Differences

Girls described more competent caregivers in their attachment stories and


more competent children in their emotional conXict and transgression stories
than boys. Gender diVerences were also found in the coherence of the transgression and emotional conXict narratives, with girls scoring higher than
boys. The diVerences in coherence were present even when gender diVerences
in vocabulary were controlled. This Wnding is consistent with a few previous
studies using the MSSB (Oppenheim, 2003; von Klitzing et al., 2000).
Also, studies about preschoolers autobiographical narratives have found that
preschool girls narratives are more elaborated and show better temporal and

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

101

causal organization (Buckner & Fivush, 1998; Fivush, 1998; Fivush, Haden,
& Adam, 1995), features that are part of our coherence scale. These diVerences have been linked to gender-related diVerences in parental style when
co-constructing narratives with their children about emotional experiences
(e.g., Fivush, 1991; Zahn-Waxler, Ridgeway, Denham, Usher, & Cole,
1993). Parents tend to support their daughters more during conversation and
they talk more about emotions, and elaborate and give more explanations
about the causes of the emotions when talking with their girls than with their
boys. Parents thus appear to encourage in their children gendered communication styles, and these may be manifested in childrens own narratives, as was
found regarding coherence in this study (Oppenheim et al., 1997).
It is interesting to further speculate about the speciWc stories in which gender diVerences were found. Girls coherence and competent child representation scores were higher in the transgression and emotional conXict story
groups. Five of the six story stems included in these groups focus on violation
of maternal prohibitions and/or moral dilemmas. In the preschool years, girls
have been repeatedly found to be more advanced in their moral development.
They are more compliant with rules, and they show more signs of internalization of moral standards in their behavior (Kochanska, Padavich, & Koenig,
1996), as well as in their reactions to hypothetical situations, including narrative completion tasks (Kochanska, 1997; Kochanska et al., 1996). It could
be the case, therefore, that this gender diVerence was also reXected in the
higher coherence and the more competent child descriptions of girls identiWed in the story stems tapping morality, maternal prohibitions, and reactions
to transgressions.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Support for the study was provided by grant 812/95 from the Israel Science
Foundation to David Oppenheim and by the National Institute of Child
Health and Human Development grant number (RO1) #HD25975 to Abraham Sagi-Schwartz. This chapter is based in part on an MA thesis written by
Ella Wagner at the Department of Psychology, University of Haifa, Israel. We
would like to thank Abraham Sagi-Schwartz for making the sample available
for longitudinal investigation. We would also like to thank Rachel Bransky,
Yael Cohen, and Galit Gross for their help in administering the MacArthur
Story-Stem Battery and Smadar Dolev and Anat Heimberg for coding the
story stems. Finally, we would like to extend our thanks to the children and
mothers who participated in the study.

102

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

REFERENCES
Ainsworth, M. D. S. (1984). Attachment. In N. S. Endler & J. McV. Hunt (Eds.), Personality
and the behavioral disorders (Vol. 1, pp. 559602). New York: Wiley.
Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M. C., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of attachment: A
psychological study of the strange situation. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Bar-Haim, Y., Sutton, D. B., Fox, N. A., & Marvin, R. S. (2002). Stability and change of
attachment at 12, 24, and 58 months of age: Behavior, representation, and life events. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 41, 381388.
Bowlby, J. (1982). Attachment and loss: Vol. 1. Attachment. New York: Basic Books. (Original
work published 1967)
Bretherton, I. (1985). Attachment theory: Retrospect and prospect. In I. Bretherton &
E. Waters (Eds.), Growing points of attachment theory and research. Monographs of the
Society for Research in Child Development, 50 (12, Serial No. 209), 338.
Bretherton, I., Golby, B., & Cho, E. (1997). Attachment and the transmission of values. In
J. E. Grusec & L. Kuczynski (Eds.), Parenting and childrens internalization of values: A
handbook of contemporary theory (pp. 103134). New York: John Wiley & Sons.
Bretherton, I., & Munholland, K. A. (1999). Internal working models in attachment relationships. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Handbook of attachment: Theory, research, and
clinical applications (pp. 89111). New York: Guilford Press.
Bretherton, I., & Oppenheim, D. (2003). The MacArthur Story Stem Battery: Development,
administration, reliabilty, validity and reXections about meaning. In R. N. Emde, D. P.
Wolf, & D. Oppenheim (Eds.), Making meaning with narratives (pp. 55-80). New York:
Oxford University Press.
Bretherton, I., Oppenheim, D., Buchsbaum, H., Emde, R. N., & the MacArthur Narrative
Group. (1990). MacArthur Story Stem Battery. Unpublished manual.
Bretherton, I., Ridgeway, D., & Cassidy, J. (1990). Assessing internal working models of
attachment relationship: An attachment story completion task for 3-year-olds. In M. T.
Greenberg & D. Cicchetti (Eds.), Attachment in the preschool years: Theory, research, and
intervention (pp. 273308). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Buchsbaum, H. K., Toth, S. L., Clyman, R. B., Cicchetti, D., & Emde, R. (1992). The use of
a narrative story stem technique with maltreated children: Implication for theory and practice. Development and Psychopathology, 4, 603625.
Buckner, J. P., & Fivush, R. (1998). Gender and self in childrens autobiographical narratives.
Applied Cognitive Psychology, 12, 407429.
Cassidy, J. (1988). Child-mother attachment and the self in six-year-olds. Child Development,
59, 121134.
Cassidy, J. (1994). Emotion regulation: InXuences of attachment relationships. In N. A. Fox
(Ed.), The development of emotion regulation: Biological and behavioral considerations.
Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 59 (23, Serial No. 240), 228
249.
Cassidy, J., & Berlin, L. J. (1994). The insecure/ambivalent pattern of attachment: Theory and
research. Child Development, 65, 971991.
Cassidy, J., & Marvin, R. S. (1989). Attachment organization in three- and four-year-olds.
Unpublished coding manual, University of Virginia and Pennsylvania State University.
Crowell, J. A., & Feldman, S. S. (1988). Mothers internal working models of relationships

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

103

and childrens behavioral and developmental status: A study of mother-child interaction.


Child Development, 59, 12731285.
Crowell, J. A., & Feldman, S. S. (1991). Mothers working models of attachment relationships
and mother and child behavior during separation and reunion. Developmental Psychology,
27, 597605.
De WolV, M., & van IJzendoorn, M. H. (1997). Sensitivity and attachment: A meta-analysis
on parental antecedents of infant attachment. Child Development, 68, 571591
Dozier, M., & Kobak, R. R. (1993). Psychopathology in adolescent attachment interviews:
Converging evidence for repressing strategies. Child Development, 63, 14731480.
Erikson, E. H. (1950). Childhood and society. New York: Norton.
Etzion-Carasso, A., & Oppenheim, D. (2000). Open mother-pre-schooler communication:
Relations with early secure attachment. Attachment and Human Development, 2, 347370.
Fivush, R. (1991). Gender and emotion in mother-child conversations about the past. Journal
of Narrative and Life History, 1, 325341.
Fivush, R. (1998). Gendered narratives: Elaboration, structure, and emotion in parent-child
reminiscing across the preschool years. In C. P. Thompson, D. J. Hermann, D. Bruce, J. D.
Read, D. G. Payne, & M. P. Togila (Eds.), Autobiographical memory: Theoretical and applied
perspectives (pp. 79103). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Fivush, R., Haden, C., & Adam, S. (1995). Structure and coherence of preschoolers personal
narratives over time: Implication for childhood amnesia. Journal of Experimental Cognitive
Psychology, 60, 3250.
Freud, A. (1946). The psycho-analytical treatment of children. London: Imago Publishing Co.
Green, J., Stanley, C., Smith, V., & Goldwyn, R. (2000). A new method of evaluating attachment representations in young school-age children: The Manchester Child Attachment
Story Task. Attachment and Human Development, 2, 4870.
Hesse, E. (1999). The adult attachment interview: Historical and current perspectives. In
J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Handbook of attachment: Theory, research, and clinical
applications (pp. 395433). New York: The Guilford Press.
Klagsburn, M., & Bowlby, J. (1976). Responses to separation from parents: A clinical test for
young children. British Journal for Projective Psychology and Personality Study, 21, 727.
Kobak, R. R., Ferenz-Gillies, R., Everhart, E., & Seabrook, L. (1994). Maternal attachment
strategies and emotion regulation with adolescent oVspring. Journal of Reasearch on Adolescence, 4, 553566.
Kobak, R. R., & Sceery, A. (1988). Attachment in late adolescence: Working models, aVect
regulation, and the representations of the self and others. Child Development, 59, 135
146.
Kochanska, G. (1995). Childrens temperament, mothers discipline, and security of attachment: Multiple pathways to emerging internalization. Child Development, 66, 597615.
Kochanska, G. (1997). Multiple pathways to conscience for children with diVerent temperaments: From toddlerhood to age 5. Developmental Psychology, 33, 228240.
Kochanska, G., Padavich, D. L., & Koenig, A. (1996). Childrens narratives about hypothetical moral dilemmas and objective measures of their conscience: Mutual relations and
socialization antecedents. Child Development, 67, 14201436.
Koren-Karie, N., Oppenheim, D., Haimovich, Z., & Etzion-Carasso, A. (2003). Dialogues
of seven-year-olds with their mothers about emotional events: Development of a typology.
In R. N. Emde, D. P. Wolf, & D. Oppenheim (Eds.), Making meaning with narratives
(pp. 338354). Oxford University Press.

104

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

Londerville, S., & Main, M. (1981). Security of attachment, compliance, and maternal training methods in the second year of life. Developmental Psychology, 17, 289299.
Lyons-Ruth, K., & Jacobvitz, D. (1999). Attachment disorganization: Unresolved loss, relational violence, lapses in behavioral and attentional strategies. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver
(Eds.), Handbook of attachment: Theory, research, and clinical applications (pp. 520554).
New York: Guilford Press.
MacWe, J., Toth, S. L., Rogosch, F. A., Robinson, J., Emde, R. N., & Cicchetti, D. (1999).
EVects of maltreatment on preschoolers narrative representations of responses to relieve
distress and of role reversal. Developmental Psychology, 35, 460465.
Main, M., & Hesse, E. (1990). Parents unresolved traumatic experiences are related to infant
disorganized attachment status: Is frightened and/or frightening parental behavior the linking mechanism? In M. T. Greenberg, D. Cicchetti, & E. M. Cummings (Eds.), Attachment
in the preschool years: Theory, research, and intervention (pp. 161182). Chicago: University
of Chicago Press.
Main, M., Kaplan, N., & Cassidy, J. (1985). Security in infancy, childhood, and adulthood:
A move to the level of representation. In I. Bretherton & E. Waters (Eds.), Growing points
in attachment theory and research. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 50 (12, Serial No. 209), 66104.
Main, M., & Solomon, J. (1986). Discovery of a new, insecuredisorganized/disoriented
attachment pattern. In M. Yogman & T. B. Brazelton (Eds.), AVective development in
infancy (pp. 95124). Norwood, NJ: Ablex.
Nelson, K., & Gruendel, J. (1981). Generalized event representations: Basic building blocks of
cognitive development. In M. E. Lamb & A. L. Brown (Eds.), Advances in developmental
psychology (Vol. 1, pp. 131158). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Olds, D. L., Kitzman, H., Cole, R., Robinson, J., Sidora, K., Luckey, D.W., et al. (2002).
Enduring eVects of nurse home visiting on maternal life-course and child development: Age-six
follow-up of a randomized trial. Unpublished manuscript.
Oppenheim, D. (2003). Childrens emotional resolution of MSSB narratives: Relations with
child behavior problems and parental psychological distress. In R. N. Emde, D. P. Wolf, & D.
Oppenheim (Eds.), Making meaning with narratives (pp. 147162). Oxford University Press.
Oppenheim, D. (1997). The attachment doll-play interview for preschoolers. International
Journal of Behavioral Development, 20, 681697.
Oppenheim, D., Emde, R. N., & Wamboldt, F. S., (1996). Associations between 3-year-olds
narrative co-constructions with mothers and fathers and their story completions about
aVective themes. Early Development and Parenting, 5, 149160.
Oppenheim, D., Emde, R. N., & Warren, S. (1997). Childrens narrative representations of
mothers: Their development and associations with child and mother adaptation. Child
Development, 68, 127138.
Oppenheim, D., Koren-Karie, N., & Sagi, A. (2001). Mothers empathic understanding of
their preschoolers internal experience: Relations with early attachment. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 25, 1626.
Oppenheim, D., Nir, A., Warren, S., & Emde, R. N. (1997). Emotion regulation in motherchild narrative co-construction: Associations with childrens narratives and adaptation.
Developmental Psychology, 33, 284294.
Oppenheim, D., & Waters, H. S. (1995). Narrative processes and attachment representations:
Issues of development and assessment. In E. Waters, B. Vaughn, G. Posada, & K. KondoIkemura (Eds.), Caregiving, cultural, and cognitive perspectives on secure base behavior

4.

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

105

and working models: New growing points of attachment theory and research. Monographs
of the Society for Research in Child Development, 60 (23, Serial No. 244), 197215.
Page, T., & Bretherton, I. (2001). Mother-and father-child attachment themes in the story
completions of preschoolers from post-divorce families: Do they predict relationships with
peers and teachers? Attachment and Human Development, 3, 129.
Robinson, J., Herot, C., Haynes, P., & Mantz-Simmons, L. (2000). Childrens story stem
responses: A measure of program impact on developmental risks associated with dysfunctional parenting. Child Abuse and Neglect, 24, 99110.
Robinson, J., Mantz-Simmons, L., MacWe, J., & The MacArthur Narrative Working Group.
(1992). Narrative coding manual. Unpublished manual.
Sagi, A., Koren-Karie, N., Gini, M., Ziv, Y., & Joels, T. (2002). Shedding further light on the
eVects of various types and quality of early child care on infant-mother attachment relationship: The Haifa Study of Early Child Care. Child Development, 73, 11661186.
Shouldice, A., & Stevenson-Hinde, J. (1992). Coping with security distress: The separation
anxiety test and attachment classiWcation at 4.5 years. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry and Allied Disciplines, 33, 331348.
Slough, N., & Greenberg, M. (1990). Five-year-olds representations of separation from parents: Responses for self and hypothetical child. In I. Bretherton & M. Watson (Eds.), New
directions for child development: No. 48. Childrens perspective on the family (pp. 6784). San
Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Solomon, J., & George, C. (1999). The place of disorganization in attachment theory: Linking classic observations with contemporary Wndings. In J. Solomon & C. George (Eds.),
Attachment disorganization (pp. 332). New York: Guilford Press.
Solomon, J., George, C., & DeJong, A. (1995). Children classiWed as controlling at age six:
Evidence for disorganized representational strategies and aggression at home and at school.
Development and Psychopathology, 7, 447463.
Stayton, D. J., Hogan, R., & Ainsworth, M. D. S. (1973). Infant obedience and maternal
behavior: The origins of socialization reconsidered. Child Development, 42, 10571070.
Teti, D. M. (1999). Conceptualizations of disorganization in the preschool years: An integration. In J. Solomon & C. George (Eds.), Attachment disorganization (pp. 213242). New
York: Guilford Press.
Toth, S. L., Ciccetti, D., MacWe, J., Rogosch, F. A., & Maughan, A. (2000). Narrative representations of moral-aYliative and conXictual themes and behavioral problems in maltreated preschoolers. Journal of Clinical Child Psychology, 29, 307318.
van IJzendoorn, M. H. (1995). Adult attachment representations, parental responsiveness, and
infant attachment: A meta-analysis on the predictive validity of the Adult-Attachement
Interview. Psychological Bulletin, 117, 387403.
van IJzendoorn, M. H., & Kroonenberg, P. M. (1988). Cross-cultural patterns of attachment:
A meta-analysis of the strange situation. Child Development, 59, 147156.
van IJzendoorn, M. H., & Sagi, A. (1999). Cross-cultural patterns of attachment: Universal
and contextual dimensions. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Handbook of attachment:
Theory, research, and clinical applications (pp. 713734). New York: Guilford Press.
von Klitzing, K., Kelsay, K., Emde, R. N., Robinson J., & Schmitz, S. (2000). Gender-speciWc
characteristics of 5-year-olds play narratives and associations with behavior rating. Journal
of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 39, 10171023.
Wagner, E. (2001). A good story: The relations between attachment patters in infancy and narrative coherence in preschool. Unpublished masters thesis, University of Haifa.

106

S H E R - C E N S O R A N D O P PE N H E I M

Waters, H. S., Rodrigues, L. M., & Ridgeway, D. (1998). Cognitive underpinnings of narrative attachment assessment. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 71, 211234.
Wechsler, D. (1973). Manual for the Wechsler Preschool and Primary School Scale of Intelligence
(A. Libliech, Ed. & Trans.). Jerusalem: Hebrew University of Jerusalem. (Original work
published 1967)
Wolf, D. P., Rygh, J., & Altshuler, J. (1984). Agency and experience: Actions and states in play
narratives. In I. Bretherton (Ed.), Symbolic play: The development of social understanding
(pp. 195217). Orlando, FL: Academic Press.
Zahn-Waxler, C., Ridgeway, D., Denham, S., Usher, B., & Cole, P. M. (1993). Pictures of
infants emotions: A task for assessing mothers and young childrens verbal communications about aVect. In R. N. Emde & J. D. Osofsky (Eds.), The IFEEL pictures: A new
instrument for interpreting emotions. Clinical infant reports series of the Zero to Three/
National Center for Clinical Infants Programs (pp. 217236). Madison, CT: International
Universities Press.

4.

107

P R E S C H O O L E R S N A R R AT I V E S

APPENDIX 4.1
The MacArthur Story-Stem Battery (Stems Used in the Present Study)
Story Stem

Participants

Attachment story stems:


Monster
Child, parents
Separation
Reunion

2 siblings, parents,
grandmother
2 siblings, parents,
grandmother

Emotional conXict story stems:


Moms Headache Mother, child,
childs friend
Three is a crowd

2 siblings, friend,
parents

The Lost Keys

Child, parents

Transgression story stems:


Spilled Juice
2 siblings, parents
Hot Gravy

2 siblings, parents

The Bathroom
Shelf

2 siblings, mother

Brief Description

The child wakes up during the night, and thinks


there is a monster in his room.
The parents go on an overnight trip while grandmother babysits.
The parents return from their trip.

The mother has a headache, turns the TV oV


and asks the child to be quiet. A friend comes
over and asks to watch an exciting TV show.
A child is playing with his or her friend. The
childs sibling wants to play too, but the friend
says If you let your little brother play, I wont be
your friend any more.
The mother accuses the father of having lost her
keys, and an argument ensues.
The child accidentally spills a pitcher of juice at
the dinner table.
A child is warned by his mother not to touch the
pot of gravy on the stove, but becomes impatient,
touches the pot and gets burned.
Part I: The mother announces that she has to
leave and warns the children not to touch anything on the bathroom shelf. While the mother
is gone, one of the children cuts his Wnger and
asks for a Band-Aid. Part II: The mother returns.

Source: Bretherton, Oppenheim, et al., 1990.

5
Childrens Empathic Representations
in Relation to Early Caregiving
Patterns Among Low-Income
African American Mothers
JoAnn Robinson
University of Colorado

Michael Eltz
E. P. Bradley Hospital, Denver, CO

Childrens prosocial and agonistic representations of relationships arise within


the context of their experience with caregivers in early childhood. However,
little is known about the impact of caregiving that is informally shared within
networks of kin and family friends. Shared caregiving of young children is a
well-recognized strength of African American women living in poverty, especially among young, single mothers (Brodsky, 1999; Chase-Lansdale, BrooksGunn, & Zamsky, 1994; Jackson, 1993; McAdoo, 1995). Extended networks
of kin, Wctive kin, and family friends are resources that young mothers access
in order to gain support both emotionally and in their caregiving responsibilities. Sadly, outside of studies of early child care, research has not considered
the impact of these shared caregiving patterns on young childrens social emotional development, and speciWcally the development of empathic attitudes
and behaviors. Randolph and Koblinsky (2001) caution that the impacts of
multiple care providers of children of low-income African American mothers
is not suYciently studied to state unequivocally that it is generally a positive
experience. It is therefore important to study the impacts of caregiving in this
context further, because families raising young children in violent inner cities
are challenged to protect their children and nurture prosocial behaviors and
attitudes.
109

110

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

In this chapter, we consider patterns of early child care responsibility in a


large sample of mostly young, low-income African American women during
the Wrst 2 years of their Wrst childrens lives in relation to the development of
prosocial and agonistic representations of relationships when they were
between 6 and 7 years of age. We begin our introduction by considering the
role of parents in the development of empathy and prosocial behavior in early
childhood. Then we discuss empathic and prosocial themes in young childrens representations expressed in the MacArthur Story Stem Battery. Finally,
we consider what we know about shared patterns of caregiving responsibility
as a developmental context.

EMPATHIC DEVELOPMENT

Research on the development of prosocial and empathic attitudes and behaviors in young children emphasizes the importance of parental empathy for the
childs needs, sensitive caregiving behaviors, and expectations and instructions by parents for the young child to behave prosocially (Zahn-Waxler &
Radke-Yarrow, 1990). Observational studies show that warmth and sensitive
interaction styles during non-distress situations also are related to childrens
empathy and prosocial behavior (Cummings, Hollenbeck, Iannotti, RadkeYarrow, & Zahn-Waxler, 1986) as well as with change toward greater empathy among toddlers (Robinson, Zahn-Waxler, & Emde, 1994). These Wndings are based on empirical research with samples that are nearly exclusively
middle-class and of European American descent, and where care giving is
centered on mothers. However, it is particularly interesting to study the development of prosocial attitudes and behaviors in minority children. Mutuality and communalism are cited as important values that are reXected in the
parenting practices and values of many minority groups and undergird relationships among adults and children, including African Americans, Latinos,
and Native Americans, and Hawaiians (Genero, 1995; Randolph & Koblinsky, 2001).
The more common methods employed to study parental inXuence on
empathy and prosocial development include responses to interview questions
or questionnaires about mothers own valuing of sympathetic behavior (e.g.,
Eisenberg, Fabes, Schaller, Carlo, & Miller, 1991) and about their responses
to childrens intentional or inadvertent behaviors that result in some injury or
loss to another child (Eisenberg & Fabes, 1998; Zahn-Waxler, Robinson, &
Emde, 1992). Zahn-Waxler and Radke-Yarrow (1982) used a diary method
where mothers recorded such naturally occurring instances, including their

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

111

responses to those instances, Wnding that greater use of reasoning rather than
punishments contributed to greater empathy in their children. These maternal reports were generally concurrent with observations of childrens empathy
in early childhood. In this study, we examine maternal empathic attitudes
during mothers pregnancy with the focal child.
Disciplinary practices are also considered an important part of the socialization of empathy. HoVman (2000) has argued that it is the disciplinary
interaction between parent and child following a transgression that serves as
the behavioral guide toward greater empathy and morality. Therefore, we
expected that more consistent (vs. inconsistent) discipline in response to
transgressions would have a positive inXuence on empathy, and included in
our study a measure of this when children were 6 years of age.

PROSOCIAL AND AGONISTIC NARRATIVES

In the literature on childrens empathy, there is conXicting evidence on whether


empathic behaviors are inversely related to agonistic behaviors. Some studies
of very young children suggest that they are not correlated because young,
sociable children are more likely to engage in both more prosocial and more
agonistic acts with peers (Eisenberg & Mussen, 1989). However, as children
age, socialization pressures favor the retention of prosocial behaviors and the
reduction of agonistic behaviors (Zahn-Waxler & Radke-Yarrow, 1990), leading us to anticipate that similar processes may inXuence the development of
childrens ideas or representations about relationships. Eisenberg and colleagues have frequently used childrens self-reports of empathic responses,
often in response to videotaped segments or imagined situations (Eisenberg et
al., 1992). They have found that by early school age children who tend to
endorse more empathic behaviors also endorse fewer agonistic actions. Such
self-reporting is similar to the story stem narrative, where a story situation is
presented that children are invited to complete in whatever way they choose.
Childrens narratives have been identiWed as an important source of information about childrens attitudes and representations toward relationships.
The MacArthur Story Stem Battery (MSSB) is a method that has been used
in numerous investigations of young childrens socioemotional development
(Robinson, Corbitt-Price, Holmberg, & Wiener, 2002). The story stem
method is a non-intrusive assessment that taps into childrens understanding and representation of their worlds. Story-stem narratives are cognitively
and emotionally accessible to preschoolers, as well as older children, in their
portrayal of common human dilemmas. The story-stem technique has been

112

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

described as a symbolic means of representing experience (Buchsbaum, Toth,


Clyman, Cicchetti, & Emde, 1992) that may provide information about
childrens views of themselves and their world (Warren, Oppenheim, &
Emde, 1996).
Warren et al. (1996) supported the validity of the narrative in capturing
meaningful information from young children about aggressive and destructive representations when they found signiWcant positive associations with
both parent and teacher reports of behavior problems in the narratives of
middle-class children. Buchsbaum and Emde (1990) Wrst reported that
empathic and prosocial themes were prevalent in the narratives of 3-year-old
children. Oppenheim, Emde, Hasson, and Warren (1997) found a developmental trend for children to resolve story-stem dilemmas with increasingly
frequent prosocial resolutions. By age 5, 70% of children resolved dilemmas
prosocially. Zahn-Waxler et al. (1994) found in a preschool-age sample that
varied in risk for conduct disorder that prosocial resolutions were most frequently observed in females at high risk for conduct problems, suggesting their
preoccupation with conXict resolution. In a sample of maltreated preschool
children, MacWe and colleagues reported that representations of adults responding to the distress of others were less frequent than for non-maltreated
children, while self-responses to distress portrayed in the story were seen more
often among maltreated children (MacWe, Toth, Rogosch, Robinson, Emde,
& Cicchetti, 1999). Most of these investigations did not Wnd the expected
inverse correlation between prosocial and agonistic themes. However, Oppenheim, Nir, Emde, and Warren (1997) reported that children who co-constructed more stories with their mother with prosocial themes tended to have
fewer agonistic themes.
An example of a story with extreme levels of aggression and rejecting
behaviors is the following, oVered by a boy in our sample. In this story, it is
noteworthy that the childs inclusion of agonistic themes follows themes that
reXect the childs initially attempting to repair a conXict in the story known
as Threes a Crowd. In this story stem, older brother Ronnie and a friend
Paul are playing with a ball when Ronnies little brother, Sean, comes out and
asks to play, too. Ronnie agrees, but Paul says, If you let your little brother
play, I wont be your friend anymore.
Child: Oh no. (Ronnie) Please let him play. I will be your friend. Anyway, I
got a football. I dont need to play with your little ball because I got a big
football. Come on, Little Brother. Lets go get our own big football. And
anyway, I dont want your ball! (Kicks ball oV the table) (Paul) I want
to be your friend. (Ronnie) No, youre not! (Ronnie hits Paul) Im
going to go get my ball. I got your ball now! I got your ball now! (sing-

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

113

song teasing and taunting voice as Ronnie and Sean kick ball) (Paul)
No, thats not fair. Thats not fair. Thats my ball! Oh shut up!
(destruction sounds as Ronnie hits Paul, knocks him down) Come on,
Brother. Forget him. (Ronnie and Sean play with ball) (Paul gets up and
says) Anyway, Im not dead now. (destruction sounds as Ronnie hits
Paul again.) But youll be dead now. Come on. Lets play. (Ronnie and
Sean resume playing) Ill beat you up again! (Destruction sounds as Ronnie hits Paul.) Watch me. Im going to kick you. (explosion sound) And
then Mom and Dad come back and see Ronnies friend on the ground.
Ronnie tells the story, but Dad said, Ronnie, you did it. You did it.
Youre mad because you had his ball, and he wants his ball. Shut up!
(Ronnie hits Dad, hits Mom) You too, Mom! Come on, Brother.
Lets forget these dead people.

Another child, responding to the same stem, is able to respond to the challenge by the friend with prosocial themes, repairing the conXict and including the younger sibling:
Child: And then he said, Thats my brother. If he cant play, Im not playing.
And then he took his ball and went home, and then he thought a
minute, and he came back. He (Ronnie) had his arms crossed. He put
them down, and he said, Paul, you came back. Then they faced each
other, and then he (Ronnie) put his hand up, and he (Paul) put his hand
up (as in High-Fives), and they hugged, and they were best friends again,
and then he (Ronnie) asked again, and Paul said, Okay. And he got his
ball, and he (Paul) rolled it to little brother, and he rolled it to Ronnie.

Elsewhere, we have discussed the potential of the MSSB to tap both the
symptoms and consequences of parenting dysfunction (Robinson, Herot,
Haynes, & Mantz-Simmons, 2000). Oppenheim, Emde, and Warren (1997)
provided some evidence for this when they examined childrens representations of mothers in their stories. Representations of mothers as warm and
nurturing were inversely correlated with mothers self-reports of depressive
symptoms as well as her reports of the childs behavior problems. Toth,
Cicchetti, MacWe, Maughan, and Vanmeenen (2000) found that parental
representations were negatively skewed among maltreated children. We will
include positive parental representations in our examination of childrens narrative themes.
An example of representations of parents and grandparents as nurturing
and aVectionate is seen in the following response to the Departure story,
where mom and dad leave for a trip and the children stay home with grandmother. As they leave, the younger sister protests, But I dont want you to

114

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

go! This story is presented at the end of the battery, and it is interesting that
this child included elements from previous stories:
Child:

She starts crying, and then, Mom, Im going to miss you. Thank
you, sweetheart. Then she gave Shana a kiss, and then she went
over, and grandma put her arm around her. And then she said,
Shana, sometimes mom and your dad have to be alone. And then
Rhonda started crying, and she said, Okay. She went back over to
her sister, and they held hands, and then they (Mom and Dad) went
in the car.
Examiner: Now show me what the children do while the parents are away.
C:
They went in the back yard while grandma, she set the grill, and
then they started playing with her ball. They were kicking it to each
other, and then Paula. I need Paula.
E:
You can just pretend.
C:
And then Paula came over. She said, Hey, can I play? She said,
No, you cant play, Shana said. You didnt let me play last time.
But when I came back, I let you play. Oh yeah, thats right. Come
on. Then they started throwing the ball to each other. They were
sitting and rolling the ball to each other.

This investigation is the Wrst that focuses on African American children


using the MSSB. It is reasonable to assume that their empathic and agonistic
representations will be predicted by similar maternal inXuences as European
American children. This is also the Wrst study of childrens narratives that has
attempted to demonstrate associations between maternal attitudes and behaviors during pregnancy and infancy and the childs narrative representations at age 6. More speciWcally, the current investigation will allow us to
examine how childrens narratives may be shaped by maternal attitudes and
behavior within the context of speciWc patterns of shared care of the child.

PATTERNS OF CAREGIVING RESPONSIBILITY

Recent Wndings from the NICHD Study of Early Childcare (NICHD


SECC) indicate that quantity of nonparental care is not in and of itself a signiWcant predictor of a variety of social-emotional outcomes (NICHD Early
Child Care Research Network, 1997a, 1998). In-home care by sitters, grandmothers, and fathers was one of the Wve types of care studied in the NICHD
SECC; for toddlers and preschoolers, the highest level of sensitive caregiving
was provided by in-home caregivers compared to all other forms of care
(NICHD Early Child Care Research Network, 2000). This Wnding suggests

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

115

that shared care with family members can often oVer a positive and sensitive
substitute during mothers absence. This Wnding was not moderated by either
ethnicity or family income, suggesting that among low-income as well as
middle-income families, minority as well as nonminority families, relatives
and close friends often provide sensitive care. However, the NICHD study
sample is also largely middle class and of European American descent
(NICHD Early Child Care Research Network, 1998) and the poverty subsample quite small, leading to some uncertainty about the reliability of these
Wndings.
Our sample is comprised of African American mothers living in poverty,
many of whom were unmarried teens; a vulnerable segment of society in the
United States (McAdoo, 1995). Because sharing care with grandmother and
other kin is generally recognized as an important feature of the resiliency of
single African American mothers coping with economic adversity, we do not
have a priori hypotheses that one pattern of care will be associated with
greater prosocialness or less agonistic representations of relationships. However, we do propose that variation in maternal characteristics and motherchild relationship factors may be more strongly associated with childrens
empathy within the context of exclusive maternal care compared to shared
care arrangements.
SpeciWcally, we examine whether children receiving exclusive maternal care
or shared care during the Wrst 2 years diVer in the frequency of prosocial and
agonistic representations in their story completion narratives. Because patterns of care may reXect diVering levels of risk (e.g., shared care with grandmother may occur more frequently among very young mothers), we brieXy
describe demographic diVerences between women utilizing exclusive versus
shared care patterns. Finally, we explore whether there are advantages in
exclusive maternal care patterns for the development of empathy and prosociality in their children. SpeciWcally, we ask whether shared care patterns are
more likely to dilute the impacts of maternal attitudes that might be associated with childrens empathic and agonistic themes compared to exclusive
maternal care.

METHOD

Participants

Data for this report were gathered from a sample of low-income, African
American, Wrst-time mothers who had been recruited from a public health

116

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

clinic in Memphis, Tennessee, to participate in the New Mothers Study at the


time of their Wrst pregnancy (Kitzman et al., 1997). The original design
speciWed random assignment to one of four treatment conditions:
1.
2.
3.
4.

Transportation to prenatal visits.


Transportation to prenatal care and postnatal research visits.
Transportation to prenatal care and prenatal home visits by a nurse.
Transportation to prenatal care and postnatal research visits plus preand postnatal home visits by a nurse until the child was 2 years.

Only women and children in Treatment Conditions 2 and 4 were studied


beyond the perinatal period (n = 743). The women were mostly young (64%
were 18 or younger at the time of enrollment), African American (92%), and
overwhelmingly poor (85% were living in households with incomes at or
below the federal poverty guidelines). However, only data from African
American women assigned to Treatment Condition 2, the control condition for estimating the impact of the nurse home visiting intervention, are
reported (n = 473), to control for diVerences that may have resulted from
families receiving intervention. These women were, on average, 17.9 years of
age at the time of enrollment, average education was tenth grade, and annual
discretionary household income was reported to be $1,349 on average.
Creating Patterns of Caregiving

Mothers reported on the number of days per average week that diVerent caregivers served as the primary provider, to create caregiving percentage values
for each child at both the 12- and 24-month time periods. Parents identiWed
the number of days they were the primary caregiver for the child, as well as
the number of days other people in the childs life (i.e., grandmother, husband/boyfriend, plus two additional support people) served as the primary
provider. The total response was not limited (i.e., total could be more than
7 days), such that parents could identify days in which multiple people had
some period of primary caregiving responsibility. Percentages for all caregivers
were created by dividing the individual caregivers total days into the sum of
total days. Subsequently, cluster analysis was used to identify patterns of caregiving.
Because cluster analysis is an exploratory methodology, we sought a cluster
solution based on theoretical assumptions and then compared it to other
cluster analysis techniques. Theoretical decisions were based on research information on caregiving practices and demographic information on living
arrangements from several sources including the NICHD SECC (NICHD

5.

117

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

Early Child Care Research Network, 1996, 1997a, 2000) where nonmaternal
care was most often provided by a father or grandparent during infancy and
toddlerhood. Similar patterns have been shown in demographic databases
(Federal Interagency Forum on Child and Family Statistics, 1999; United
States Census Bureau, 2000, 2003).
Given that the majority of children lived in the same household as the
mother, we presumed a strong likelihood that the mother would typically be
part of all caregiving compositions. Thus, clusters presented as likely were
mother and father/partner together, mother alone, and mother with grandmother, and mother with another relative or nonrelative. Thus, theoretically,
we expected four clusters of caregiving constellations. Because cluster analysis
is an exploratory methodology, we Wrst tested our theoretical expectations at
each time period and then compared it to other possible solutions with fewer
or greater number of clusters. In all approaches, the theoretically expected
groups were represented at 12 and 24 months.
Combining information from both age points produced a 4 4 matrix of
care patterns. In order to limit the amount of complexity we consider here,
we restricted our examination of the data to children whose mothers reported
similar caregiving arrangements across the Wrst 2 years (n = 193 children).
Sixty-one children (32%) had exclusive care from their mother; 42 (22%)
children had shared care from mother and grandmother; 41 children (21%)
had shared care from their mother and her husband/boyfriend; and 49 children (25%) had care distributed across multiple caregivers. See Table 5.1 for
distribution of caregivers within each group.
TABLE 5.1
Average Days per Week People Helped Care for Child
During First Two Years

Child Age
12 mos
Exclusive maternal care
Shared w/ grandmother
Shared w/ husband/boyfriend
Distributed care
24 mos
Exclusive maternal care
Shared w/ grandmother
Shared w/ husband/boyfriend
Distributed care

Mother

Grandmother

Husband/
Boyfriend

Helper 1

Helper 2

6.90
6.43
6.68
6.39

0.36
4.83
1.49
2.61

0.22
0.74
5.22
2.63

0.39
0.92
0.76
4.94

0.26
0.79
0.46
2.22

6.95
6.76
6.44
6.12

0.14
4.74
1.22
2.43

0.15
1.00
5.73
1.69

0.48
0.86
1.15
4.71

0.08
0.29
0.51
2.88

118

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

Procedures and Measures


Childrens Prosocial and Agonistic Representations of Relationships.

During the year following kindergarten completion, after they had turned
6 years of age, the children and their mothers participated in a follow-up visit
at the study oYces. Childrens narrative representations were elicited using
eight story stems from the MacArthur Story Stem Battery (MSSB: Bretherton, Oppenheim, Buchsbaum, Emde, & the MacArthur Narrative Working
Group, 1990). Eight stems were selected to elicit themes about relationship
conXicts or loss (Lost Dog, Threes a Crowd, Lost Keys, Separation and Reunion, Scary Dog) and/or moral conXicts (Spilled Juice, Stolen Candy). The
story stems were administered during a lengthy assessment of the child and
were preceded by a 60-minute general abilities test and a 15-minute play
break with mom. This had the advantage of facilitating rapport with the
examiner, and minimizing problems of reticence for shy children.
Four narrative themes or clusters of themes are considered in our analyses: Prosocial Themes, Verbal Punishments, Parental Warmth, and Agonistic
Themes. Prosocial narrative themes that were scored included: empathy/
helping, aYliation, aVection, and positive ending of the story. Each theme
was scored as present/absent in each story. They were averaged within stories and then averaged across all stories (alpha = .51). Discipline themes that
included limiting-setting, scolding, or time-out were coded as Verbal Punishments. They were present or absent within each story and were averaged
across stories. Representations of parent Wgures (mothers, fathers, or grandmothers) as warm and nurturing were also scored as present or absent for
each parent Wgure within each story, and were averaged within and then
across stories. Agonistic themes included: refusal of empathy, dysregulated
aggression, use of physical punishments, and negative story ending (i.e.,
someone is in trouble or conXict continues at the end of the story). Refusal
of empathy and negative story ending were scored as present/absent in each
story; dysregulated aggression included up to four types of themes that were
weighted as: 1 = playful/verbal aggression, 2 = hurtful aggression, 3 =
unprovoked, poorly controlled aggression, and 4 = assaulting an adult. Each
variable was Wrst averaged across stories, standardized, and all variables were
then averaged together across all stories (alpha = .42). The relatively low
internal consistency is not considered a problem in the methodology since
children may include disparate elements to express the prosocial or agonistic thrust of their story.
Parent-child interaction videotaped during the play break was rated with
the Emotional Availability ScalesMiddle Childhood Version (Biringen,

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

119

Robinson, & Emde, 1993). The scales consist of Wve global ratings including
Maternal Sensitivity, which capture information about the mothers Xexibility, timing, and responsiveness with the child. For this investigation, we used
just the Maternal Sensitivity scale.
Maternal Psychological Characteristics. At the time of enrollment in
the study and prior to random assignment, mothers responded to an interview that included several demographic and psychological characteristics.
Two questionnaires tapped psychological characteristics: her recalled experience of warmth, rejection, and strictness in her relationship with her parents
growing up (Khaleque & Rohner, 2002; Rohner, 1990), and her attitudes
toward childrearing from the Adult/Adolescent Parenting Inventory (AAPI:
Bavolek, 1989; Lutenbacher, 2001). From the AAPI, we focused only on the
subscale tapping lack of empathy toward children. At the 6-year follow-up
the mother was asked whether her current male partner (either husband or
boyfriend) was involved in providing resources, comfort, or engaging in activities with her child. Yes/no responses to these questions were summed; data
were missing if the mother had no current partner. In addition, mothers
reported on their current parenting practices through the Alabama Parenting
Questionnaire (APQ: Shelton, Frick, & Wooton, 1996); we focused on the
Inconsistent Discipline subscale.

RESULTS

Maternal Risks Associated With Patterns


of Caregiving

DiVerences in maternal demographic and psychological characteristics across


caregiving groups were tested with ANOVA models. As can be seen in Table
5.2, most diVerences followed a general pattern that showed signiWcant differences between women sharing care with grandmother and women using exclusive maternal care. Women sharing care with grandmother were less advantaged and showed greater risk characteristics than were women using exclusive
care. Women who shared care with grandmother over the Wrst 2 years were
younger and had less education than women using exclusive maternal care (p <
.001), or women sharing care with a husband/boyfriend (p < .005), or women
using highly distributed care (p < .06). Households where mothers had exclusive care had greater discretionary income than those who shared care with
grandmother, shared care with the husband/boyfriend, or who had highly distributed care. DiVerences were also observed in the percent of poverty in their

120

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

TABLE 5.2
DiVerences Between Caregiving Groups on Maternal Characteristics
Exclusive
Shared Care w/
Maternal Care a Grandmother b
Maternal age
Education level
Discretionary income
Percent poverty neighborhood
Recalled warmth
Recalled rejection
Recalled strictness
Lack of empathy
Teaching task 2yr
# mos Birth Interval at 6 yr
Partner involvement 6yr
Inconsist. discipline 6yr
Mat. Sensitivity 6yr

18.85ab
10.85
2720abd
39.6ad
3.69ad
1.31
2.24
2.56abcd
38.37
42.30ac
1.26
2.19
5.93

17.36
9.38bacd
-173
37.3
3.55
1.46
2.33
2.90
36.77
35.51
1.09
2.25
5.84

Shared Care Distributed


w/ Boyfriend c
Care d
18.08
10.59
291
33.9
3.73cd
1.32
2.31
2.94
37.38
31.52
1.59cbd
2.41
5.95

18.00
10.16
79
29.5
3.45
1.48
2.39
2.86
38.75
45.35dbc
1.20
2.30
6.12

Key to superscripts: First letter signiWcantly diVerent from subsequent letters at p < .05.

neighborhood at enrollment. Women using highly distributed care had a lower


percent poverty than exclusive maternal care and for shared care with grandmother. Amount of employment did not diVer across groups (not tabled).
In the area of attitudes relevant to empathic development, diVerences were
observed in maternal recalled warmth in her own relationship with parents
while growing up. Women using distributed care reported less warmth than
those using exclusive maternal care (p < .01) or women who shared care with
a husband/boyfriend (p < .01). Mothers nonempathic attitudes toward children also favored women who used exclusive maternal care. They had fewer
nonempathic attitudes toward children than those with highly distributed
care (p < .02), shared care with grandmother (p < .02), and shared care with
mothers husband/boyfriend (p < .01).
At 6 years of age, the average number of months reported until the birth of
the next-born child favored women using exclusive maternal care compared
to those who shared care with a husband/boyfriend (p < .02). In addition,
women using highly distributed care had a greater interval than either shared
care with grandmother (p < .05) or care shared with mothers husband/boyfriend (p < .01). The diVerence between exclusive maternal care and highly
distributed care was not signiWcant.
Not surprisingly, there were group diVerences favoring the women who
shared care with their husband/boyfriend on the involvement of these part-

5.

121

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

TABLE 5.3
DiVerences in Narrative Representations Between Caregiving Groups

Prosocial themes
Verbal discipline
Parental warmth
Aggressive themes

Exclusive
Maternal Care a

Shared Care w/
Grandmother b

Shared Care
w/ Boyfriend c

Distributed
Care d

100.04
99.21
98.86
98.61

99.19
99.92
98.76
101.22ba

98.89
97.80
98.65
99.11

101.55
101.45
99.41
99.01

Key to superscripts: First letter signiWcantly diVerent from subsequent letters at p < .05.

ners with the child at age 6; women who had shared care with a partner in
infancy reported greater current partner involvement than either the distributed care group (p < .05) or the group sharing care with grandmother (p < .05).
There were no diVerences across groups for mothers reported inconsistent
discipline or her observed sensitivity at child age 6. In general, these results
showed the group sharing care with grandmother to be the most disadvantaged group.
Differences in Prosocial and Agonistic Theme Use
Across Caregiving Groups

Analysis of variance was also used to test for diVerence in narrative themes. As
can be seen in Table 5.3, children of women who used highly distributed care
created more prosocial/empathic themes than other children, although the
diVerences were nonsigniWcant trends. Average level of verbal punishment
themes also were greater for children who experienced distributed care, but
these diVerences, too, did not reach signiWcance. Children of women who
shared care with grandmother created narratives with more aggression and agonistic themes than children of women who had exclusive care (T1,167 = 2.62,
p < .05). NonsigniWcant trends were also found between children in shared
care with grandmother and those whose mothers shared care with a husband/
boyfriend or who had highly distributed care. DiVerences in agonistic themes
were not found between children in exclusive maternal care and the other two
groups. No diVerences were found for representations of maternal warmth.
Correlates of Prosocial and Agonistic Narrative
Themes Within Caregiving Groups

Correlations between maternal characteristics and childrens narrative themes


can be found in Table 5.4. Within the exclusive maternal care group, mothers

122

+p

.24+
.23
.09
-.09

-.05
-.19
-.12
-.17

-.06
.16
-.17
.37*

.02
-.03
.04
-.07

-.04
.16
.08
.30+

-.05
-.16
.20
.02

-.25
-.23
.05
.05

Recalled
Warmth

-.20
-.15
.28*
.45**

< .10. *p < .05. **p < .01.

Exclusive Maternal Care


Prosocial Themes
Warmth
Verbal Punishment
Agonistic Themes
Shared w/ Grandmother
Prosocial Themes
Warmth
Verbal Punishment
Agonistic Themes
Shared w/ Husb./Boyf.
Prosocial Themes
Warmth
Verbal Punishment
Agonistic Themes
Distributed Care
Prosocial Themes
Warmth
Verbal Punishment
Agonistic Themes

Lack of
Empathy

-.16
-.10
.01
.17

.23
-.05
-.04
-.25

-.25
-.26
-.09
.19

-.26+
-.15
-.02
.07

Recalled
Rejection

-.25
-.25
-.03
.24

-.29+
-.13
-.17
-.07

.06
.07
-.26
.08

-.31*
-.25+
-.18
.10

Recalled
Strictness

-.17
.19
-.06
.18

.01
.21
-.11
.01

.34*
.38*
.13
.02

.30*
.14
.37*
.06

Interactive
Warmth:
2 yr

.17
-.11
-.10
-.12

.15
-.06
-.12
-.03

.02
.28+
.09
-.01

.01
.15
-.25+
-.38**

# mos.
Between
Births

TABLE 5.4
Correlates of Narrative Themes by Caregiving Pattern

-.26
-.37*
-.16
.12

-.35*
-.49**
-.25
.14

.30
.41*
.50**
.08

.23
.11
.04
-.22

Current
Partner
Involvement

-.05
.05
-.11
-.18

-.03
-.11
-.18
-.02

.23
-.01
.00
-.15

.33*
.18
.21
-.08

Sensitivity
6 yr

.04
.13
.13
.04

.33*
.14
.28+
-.16

.05
-.09
-.04
.39*

-.17
.02
.18
.22

Inconsistent
Discipline

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

123

lack of empathy reported prior to the childs birth was negatively correlated
with childrens verbal punishment themes and positively correlated with agonistic themes. Recalled strictness experienced with a mothers parents was
negatively correlated with prosocial themes. Mothers observed warmth and
skill in interaction with her child at age 2 was positively correlated with prosocial themes and verbal punishment themes, and prosocial themes were correlated with her sensitivity observed at child 6 years. Finally, the interval to
the birth of the next child was negatively correlated with childrens agonistic
themes.
For the group sharing care with grandmother, mothers teaching task
warmth and skill at age 2 were positively associated with their childrens
prosocial themes and representations of parental warmth. Greater involvement of mothers current partner was positively associated with childrens
themes of verbal punishment and parental warmth. Mothers self-reported
inconsistent discipline when the child was age 6 was positively associated
with childrens use of agonistic themes. In the group sharing care with a husband/boyfriend, the pattern of correlations did not Wt expectations. Greater
recalled warmth was positively correlated with agonistic themes. More
involvement of her current partner was negatively correlated with childrens
prosocial themes and representations of parental warmth. Inconsistent discipline reported at 6 years was positively correlated with prosocial themes.
Within the group using highly distributed care, only one correlation was signiWcant. Greater partner involvement was negatively correlated with childrens representations of parental warmth.

DISCUSSION

Associations between Maternal Characteristics


and Child Narratives

We had anticipated Wnding a stronger pattern of maternal correlates of childrens prosocial and agonistic narrative themes among the exclusive care
group compared to the other groups, especially the distributed care group,
because exclusive care maximized mothers contact with the child and exposure to the maternal attitudes and behaviors we assessed. We found some
support for this in the pattern of correlations in this group. Mothers selfreported lack of empathy at enrollment was correlated with aggressive
themes. Closer spacing of children also was related to the frequency with
which children introduced agonistic themes in their stories. Mothers recalled

124

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

strictness at enrollment and observed maternal behaviors at ages 2 and 6 years


were correlated with their childrens prosocial narrative themes. Childrens
representations of verbal punishments, which are weakly correlated with both
prosocial and agonistic themes (r = .21), were positively correlated with
mothers nonempathic attitudes in pregnancy but were also positively correlated with maternal warmth and skill in the teaching task at age 2. These latter correlations suggest that there is an underlying sociability dimension that
unites these four themes in the childrens narratives. Alternatively, inclusion
of verbal punishments in stories reXects the childs impulse to contain aggression but also reXects the use of more nurturing containment, hence the correlation with both prosocial and agonistic themes. Overall, the coherence of
the pattern of correlations supports the expected associations between maternal empathy and sensitive interactions and the childrens representations of
relationships in this group.
Few signiWcant correlations were observed among children whose care
was shared with the childs grandmother, although they followed theoretical
predictions. Greater maternal skill and warmth observed at age 2 was associated with more prosocial themes and representations of maternal warmth.
Mothers report of more inconsistent discipline practices at age 6 correlated
with more agonistic themes. Most interesting among children reared by
mother and grandmother, however, are the moderately strong correlations
between mothers report of her current partners involvement with the child
and the more frequent inclusion of verbal punishments and maternal warmth
in the childrens narratives. The correlations suggest that for these children,
whose mothers were younger and less economically advantaged at the time of
their births, greater involvement of a father Wgure as they enter school supports positive representations of parenting for the child.
However, the pattern of correlations for the group sharing care in infancy
with a husband/boyfriend was theoretically inconsistent. Mothers recalled
warmth from their parents was signiWcantly positively associated with greater
agonistic themes in their children and greater inconsistent discipline reported
by mothers at age 6 was associated with more prosocial themes. Further, negative correlations between male partner involvement at child age 6, and childrens prosocial themes and representations of parental warmth, were also
found and shed some light on these unexpected Wndings. Perhaps sharing
the childs care in infancy with a male partner was not an optimal strategy
regarding child development; when partners were more involved at age 6, the
children were adversely aVected. Including fewer prosocial themes and less
parental warmth in their expressed representations of relationships may suggest less trust or safety in their experience. A suggestion of this pattern was

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

125

also seen in the single signiWcant correlation in the childrens representations


in the highly distributed care group; when mothers partner was more involved at age 6, children also represented parents warmly less often. The negative association between male partners involvement and childrens parenting
representations likely has to do with the historical as well as current greater
participation of male partners in these childrens lives (see Table 5.1). These
Wndings are in marked contrast to the group of children who were cared for
by mothers and grandmothers, where the child may have experienced a history of safety and trust. Given the importance of marriage in African American communities (McAdoo, 1995), this Wnding deserves serious consideration in other studies of partner involvement and childrens socioemotional
development.
It is important to note that while there may be associations between
certain patterns of caregiving and child narratives, we do not know what
these same children might look like in another caregiving style and therefore
cannot assume that utilizing multiple caregivers is a maladaptive approach.
For example, while children who receive care from both their mother and
grandmother show more agonistic themes than children cared for exclusively
by their mothers, those same children may show a higher level of agonistic
themes if they were to also receive exclusive maternal care, given their mothers youth and poverty. In that scenario, grandmother may be providing protective eVects for a group that would otherwise be severely disadvantaged.
Associations Between Early Care and Child Narratives

We did not hypothesize that children in one group would incorporate more
prosocial or less agonistic themes compared to another. We found that agonistic themes were more frequent among children raised by their mothers
and grandmothers compared to children whose care was exclusively by
mother. We found, however, that children who experienced highly distributed care in their Wrst 2 years tended to have more prosocial themes than
children whose care was shared with mothers husband/boyfriend. These
Wndings are not surprising, but we hesitate to interpret them with any conWdence. However, children whose care was shared by grandmother were the
most disadvantaged socioeconomically, and for this reason, this Wnding
might be expected. Children in the distributed care group were more prosocial in their narratives. It seems plausible that exposure to more models of
prosocial behavior from the diVerent caregivers in the distributed care group
may oVer these children advantages in their developing representations of
caring relationships.

126

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

Associations Between Early Care


and Maternal Characteristics

Women who exclusively cared for their child had many advantages compared
to those using other caregiving patterns. They were signiWcantly older, better
educated, and had more discretionary income at the time of study enrollment
than women who shared care with the childs grandmother. Women with
exclusive maternal care also had emotional advantages that might lead to
greater prosocialness in their children. They recalled greater warmth in their
relationship with their parents compared to women with highly distributed
care of their child, and they had fewer nonempathic attitudes for children
compared to all other groups. Women using exclusive maternal care had
longer intervals to the birth of their next child than did women sharing care
with their husband/boyfriend. However, women with exclusive care of their
child also lived in neighborhoods with a greater rate of poverty than all others at the time of enrollment. In general, excepting neighborhood poverty,
these diVerences suggest that women with exclusive care of their child had
more social advantages and had more attitudes/beliefs supportive of more
prosocial and less agonistic behaviors in their children, particularly in comparison with women sharing care with the childs grandmother. No speciWc
investigation was conducted regarding the direction of these eVects; consequently it is unclear whether the advantages seen in this group indicate that
having more resources makes a mother more likely to utilize exclusive care, as
opposed to other possible explanations, for example, they needed to develop
more resources because they didnt have any other social supports. Nonetheless, there does appear to be a relationship between maternal resources and
exclusivity of care, which may have risk implications for women who share
care with grandmothers or husbands/boyfriends.
In some respects, however, the exclusive maternal care group was quite
similar to the other care groups. It is important to note that while sharing
child care responsibility during the childs Wrst 2 years characterized three of
the four groups of women, on average women worked very little during that
time. Women in this sample did not experience signiWcant employment rates
until children were between 4 and 6 years of age. Exclusive-care mothers were
not signiWcantly warmer and more skilled at 2 years or more sensitive with
their children at age 6 years. Exclusive-care mothers were also not signiWcantly older or better educated than the group sharing care with their husband/boyfriend. These two groups also did not diVer in the recalled warmth,
strictness, or rejection in their relationship with their parents. However, these

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

127

mothers may have diVered in other characteristics that were not measured,
given the dramatic diVerences in how their attitudes, behaviors, and life circumstances were associated with their childrens development.

CONCLUSIONS

The content of childrens representations of relationships likely draws from


many sources in their experience. However, the content of the story stems
also may draw children into diVerent sectors of their experience. Themes of
breaking rules, peer and parent conXict, threat, and separation and loss were
reXected in the selected MSSB stories. In exploring early sources of inXuence on childrens prosocial and agonistic representations of relationships, it
was impressive to see the span of time these associations covered (up to 7
years) among children exclusively reared by their mothers. Also impressive
was the breadth of inXuences that were signiWcantly associated with childrens representations at age 6 among those exclusively reared by their mothers, including maternal lack of empathy in pregnancy, recalled warmth,
rejection, and strictness in mothers own parents, mothers interactive style
both concurrently and from when the child was age 2, and the spacing of
births. The role of fathers and father Wgures also prominently inXuenced
childrens representations of parental warmth, verbal discipline, and prosocial relatedness, but only among children reared jointly by others as well as
their mothers.
Our investigation has brought to light the importance of variations in care
that children experience in their Wrst years of life for their development of
representations of relationships. It also provides some directions for future
studies. The NICHD SECCs recent reports on the eVects of child care on
childrens socioemotional development have found that the quantity of care
has negative eVects, irrespective of the quality of care (Belsky, in press). Quantity of care for children in this study, however, may be a less salient issue than
the family risks associated with some types of care. Disentangling this is an
important further direction. Doing so may reveal whether there are ways to
augment this, such as increasing targeted exposure of other adults to the children cared for by grandmothers. It also would be interesting to see speciWcally
if the nurse visitation intervention impacted the level of prosocial themes in
the nondistributed groups or the agonistic themes in the nonexclusive care
groups. The study is limited, however, in having no information about the
quality of care that was provided by other caregivers, except by the childs own

128

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

mother. The Wnding of greater agonistic representations among children


whose care was shared by grandmother may be due to the greater socioeconomic disadvantage of their mothers, or it could have been inXuenced by less
sensitive care from grandmothers. We also have little information about the
quality of involvement children actually experienced with the male partners
who shared in their care with their mothers. However, we do know that only
19% of women were partnered with the childs biological father at age 6, suggesting that less investment in the child by male partners may play a role in
the negative consequences for the childs developing representations of parental roles in these families.
Another limitation of this study is the relatively low power to detect differences, since our selected sample was relatively small. We made the decision
to focus on women in the control group to avoid any confound with intervention impacts and on women with stable care patterns because more prolonged exposure to these patterns of care were more likely to have an impact
on the child. SigniWcant eVect sizes were moderate in magnitude in this sample (.4 to .6). Thus, we were unable to address whether child gender moderated any of these eVects, an important issue because many studies report girls
to be more prosocial than boys and boys more agonistic than girls (Eisenberg
& Fabes, 1998).
Despite these limitations, this study carries some important social implications. Families raising young children in a violent inner city (such as Memphis in the early 1990s) are challenged to provide safe, consistent care to their
children. Although shared caregiving patterns did not appear to be associated
with increased employment of their mothers, economic opportunities for
young African American women improved during the decade, and a 50%
employment rate was reported by the time the children were 6 years old. Having the exclusive care of ones mother in infancy and toddlerhood may be a
way of the past for many poor children in the United States, as welfare reform
requires earlier and more extensive employment. This report suggests that
there are beneWts for childrens developing understanding of relationships that
will be lost along with the push for greater early maternal employment.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Preparation of this chapter was suported by a grant to the Wrst author from
the National Science Foundation (0091430). Data collection for the study
was supported by a grant from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation to
David L. Olds, PhD.

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

129

REFERENCES
Bavolek, S. J. (1989). Assessing and treating high-risk parenting attitudes. Early Child Development and Care, 42, 99112.
Belsky, J. (in press). Quantity counts: Amount of child care and childrens socioemotional
development. Journal of Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics.
Biringen, Z., Robinson, J. L., & Emde, R. N. (1993). Emotional Availability Scales: Middle
Childhood Version. Unpublished scales, University of Colorado Health Sciences Center.
Bretherton, I., Oppenheim, D., Buchsbaum, H., Emde, R. N., & the MacArthur Narrative
Working Group. (1990). MacArthur Story Stem Battery. Unpublished manual.
Brodsky, A. E. (1999). Making It: The components and process of resilience among urban,
African American, single mothers. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 69, 148160.
Buchsbaum, H. K., & Emde, R. N. (1990). Play narratives in thirty-six-month-old children:
Early moral development and family relationships. The Psychoanalytic Study of the Child,
40, 129155.
Buchsbaum, H. K., Toth, S. L., Clyman, R. B., Cicchetti, D., & Emde, R. N. (1992). The use
of a narrative story stem technique with maltreated children: Implications for theory and
practice. Development and Psychopathology, 4, 603625.
Chase-Landale, P. L., Brooks-Gunn, J., & Zamsky, E. S. (1994). Young African American
multi-generational families in poverty: Quality of mothering and grandmothering. Child
Development, 65, 373393.
Cummings, E. M., Hollenbeck, B., Iannotti, R. J., Radke-Yarrow, M., & Zahn-Waxler, C.
(1986). Early organization of altruism and aggression: Developmental patterns and individual diVerences. In C. Zahn-Waxler, E. M. Cummings, & R. J. Iannotti (Eds.), Altruism
and aggression: Biological and social origins (pp. 165188). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Eisenberg, N., & Fabes, R. A. (1998). Prosocial development. In W. Damon (Series Ed.) &
N. Eisenberg (Vol. Ed.), Handbook of child psychology (5th ed.): Vol. 3. Social, emotional, and
personality development (pp. 701778). New York: John Wiley.
Eisenberg, N., Fabes, R. A., Carlo, G., Troyer, D., Speer, A. L., Karbon, M., & Switzer, G.
(1992). The relations of maternal practices and characteristics to childrens vicarious emotional responsiveness. Child Development, 63, 583602.
Eisenberg, N., Fabes, R. A., Schaller, M., Carlo, G., & Miller, P. A. (1991). The relations of
parental characteristics and practices to childrens vicarious emotional responding. Child
Development, 62, 13931408.
Eisenberg, N., & Mussen, P. (1989). The roots of prosocial behavior in children. New York:
Cambridge University Press.
Federal Interagency Forum on Child and Family Statistics. (1999). Americas children 1999.
http://www.childstats.gov/ac1999/toc.asp
Genero, N. P. (1995). Culture, resiliency, and mutual psychological development. In H. I.
McCubbin, E. A. Thompson, A. I. Thompson, & J. A. Futrell (Eds.), Resiliency in ethnic
minority families: African-American families (Vol. 2, pp. 3148). Madison, WI: University
of Wisconsin System.
HoVman, M. L. (2000). Empathy and moral development: Implications for caring and justice.
New York: Cambridge University Press.

130

RO B I N S O N A N D E LT Z

Jackson, J. F. (1993). Multiple caregiving among African Americans and infant attachment:
The need for an emic approach. Human Development, 36, 87102.
Khaleque, A., & Rohner, R. P. (2002). Perceived parental acceptance-rejection and psychological adjustment: A meta-analysis of cross-cultural and intracultural studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 5464.
Kitzman, H., Olds, D. L., Henderson, C. R., Jr, Hanks, C., Cole, R., Tatelbaum, R.,
McConnochie, K. M., Sidora, K., Luckey, D. W., Shaver, D., Engelhardt, K., James, D., &
Barnard, K. (1997). EVect of prenatal and infancy home visitation by nurses on pregnancy
outcomes, childhood injuries, and repeated childbearing: A randomized controlled trial.
Journal of the American Medical Association, 278, 644652.
Lutenbacher, M. (2001). Psychometric assessment of the Adult-Adolescent Parenting Inventory in a sample of low-income single mothers. Journal of Nursing Measurement, 9, 291
308.
MacWe, J., Toth, S. L., Rogosch, F. A., Robinson, J., Emde, R. N., & Cicchetti, D. (1999).
EVect of maltreatment on preschoolers narrative representations of responses to relieve distress and of role reversal. Development Psychology, 35, 460465.
McAdoo, H. P. (1995). African-American families: Strengths and realities. In H. I. McCubbin,
E. A. Thompson, A. I. Thompson, & J. A. Futrell (Eds.), Resiliency in ethnic minority families: African-American families (Vol. 2, pp. 1730). Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin
System.
NICHD Early Child Care Research Network. (1996). Characteristics of infant child care: Factors contributing to positive caregiving. Early Childhood Research Quarterly, 11(3), 296
306.
NICHD Early Child Care Research Network. (1997a). Child care in Wrst year of life. MerrillPalmer Quarterly, 43(3), 340360.
NICHD Early Child Care Research Network. (1997b). The eVects of infant child care on
infant-mother attachment security: Results of the NICHD Study of Early Child Care.
Child Development, 68, 860879.
NICHD Early Child Care Research Network. (1998). Early child care and self-control, compliance, and problem behavior at twenty-four and thirty-six months. Child Development,
69, 11451170.
NICHD Early Child Care Research Network. (2000). Characteristics and quality of child care
for toddlers and preschoolers. Applied Developmental Science, 4(3), 116135.
Oppenheim, D., Emde, R. N., Hasson, M., & Warren, S. (1997). Preschoolers face moral
dilemmas: A longitudinal study of acknowledging and resolving internal conXict. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 78, 943956.
Oppenheim, D., Emde, R. N., & Warren, S. L. (1997). Childrens narrative representations of
mothers: Their development and associations with child and mother adaptation. Child
Development, 68, 127138.
Oppenheim, D., Nir, A., Emde, R. N., & Warren, S. L. (1997). Emotion regulation in
mother-child narrative co-construction: Associations with childrens narratives and adaptation. Developmental Psychology, 33, 284294.
Randolph, S., & Koblinsky, S. (2001). The sociocultural context of infant mental health in
African American families. Zero-to-Three, 22, 2938.
Robinson, J. L., Corbitt-Price, J., Holmberg, J., & Wiener, P. (2002). The use of story stems to
assess risks in young children: A report on collaborations with the MacArthur Story Stem Battery.
Unpublished manuscript, University of Colorado Health Sciences Center.

5.

C H I L D R E N S E M PAT H I C R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S

131

Robinson, J., Herot, C., Haynes, P., & Mantz-Simmons, L. (2000). Childrens story stem
responses: A measure of program impact on developmental risks associated with dysfunctional parenting. International Journal for Child Abuse and Neglect, 24, 99110.
Robinson, J. L., Zahn-Waxler, C., & Emde, R. N. (1994). Patterns of development in early
empathic behavior: Environmental and child constitutional inXuences. Social Development,
3, 125145.
Rohner, R. P. (1990). Handbook for the study of parental acceptance and rejection. Storrs, CT:
Rohner Research.
Shelton, K. K., Frick, P. J., & Wooton, J. (1996). Assessment of parenting practices in families
of elementary school-age children. Journal of Clinical Child Psychology, 25, 317329.
Toth, S. L., Cicchetti, D., MacWe, J., Maughan, A., & Vanmeenen, K. (2000) Narrative representations of caregivers and self in maltreated pre-schoolers. Attachment and Human Development, 2(3), 271305.
United States Census Bureau. (2000). Household relationship and living arrangements of children under 18 years. http://www.census.gov/population/socdemo/hh-fam/p20537/2000/
tabC2.txt
United States Census Bureau. (2003). Living arrangements of children under 18 years old: 1960
to present. http://www.census.gov/population/socdemo/hh-fam/tabCH-1.pdf
Warren, S. L., Oppenheim, D., & Emde, R. N. (1996). Can emotions and themes in childrens
play predict behavior problems? Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent
Psychiatry, 34, 13311337.
Zahn-Waxler, C., Cole, P. M., Richardson, D. T., Friedman, R. J., Michel, M. K., & Belouad,
F. (1994). Social problem solving in disruptive preschool children: Reactions to hypothetical situations of conXict and distress. Merrill Palmer Quarterly, 40, 98119.
Zahn-Waxler, C., & Radke-Yarrow, M. (1982). The development of altruism: Alternative
research strategies. In N. Eisenberg (Ed.), The development of prosocial behavior (pp. 109
139). San Diego, CA: Academic Press.
Zahn-Waxler, C., & Radke-Yarrow, M. (1990). The origins of empathic concern. Motivation
and Emotion, 14, 107129.
Zahn-Waxler, C., Robinson, J., & Emde, R. N. (1992). The development of empathy in twins.
Developmental Psychology, 28, 10381047.

PA R T I I

Adolescent Narratives:
Identity Development
and Its Contexts

6
Adoption Narratives:
The Construction of Adoptive
Identity During Adolescence
Nora Dunbar
Harold D. Grotevant
University of Minnesota

Id like to Wrst of all, be able to make contact with my birthfather.


Id like to know, maybe ethnical background, like whereheritage in
particular. Maybe religion if they have any or what sort . . . I know
next to nothing about him. I kind of wish the adoption agency wouldve
kept a little better tabs on him so I would know something, because I
dont know much at all. . . . I dont know, I think Ive got to meet him,
just eventually, someday. Its a part of me thats missing; I need to Wnd
it, confront it.
Hugo, age 15, mediated adoption, Unsettled Identity
I think a lot of personality traits I have come, not really unconsciously, I
think you do pick up a lot from environment, but I think that theres
also a lot, not necessarily chainwise but you know you have and dont
really know why, that comes from your parents, well birthparents.
Which I think is where I got a lot of mine, cause Im quite diVerent
from most of the people in my family, and you know from what Ive
heard, you know my birth mother, talk about describing her, it sounds
a lot similar . . . which is kind of a weird thing.
Kelley, age 16, mediated adoption, Integrated Identity

These quotes illustrate the challenge that adopted adolescents face in making
meaning of their beginnings, which may be unknown, unclear, or otherwise
ambiguous. Meaning-making involves building a story about oneself that
attempts to answer many questions: Where did I come from? Who were my
135

136

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

parents? Why was I placed for adoption? Do my birthparents think about me


now? Do I have siblings? What does adoption mean in my life?
This story is not constructed in isolation. Its elements and aVective tone
emerge through daily interactions with family members, experiences with
peers, and exposure to the media. The ability to construct an integrated,
coherent narrative Wrst emerges in adolescence (Habermas & Bluck, 2000).
This narrative helps the adolescent make sense of the past, understand the self
in the present, and project himself or herself into the future. For the adolescent who has been adopted, this narrative is about the development of adoptive identity, the evolving answer to the question, Who am I as an adopted
person? (Grotevant, 1997; Grotevant, Dunbar, Kohler, & Esau, 2000). This
is part of the larger process of identity development, which is widely recognized as an important task of adolescence because it lays a foundation for
adult psychosocial development (Erikson, 1968; McAdams, 2001).
Adoption is recognized as the transfer of parental rights and responsibilities from a childs birth parents to other person(s) who will provide nurturance and guidance. In contemporary Western societies, adoptive relationships are quite varied (Grotevant & Kohler, 1999). Adoption can refer to the
infant placed with an infertile couple by birthparents without the Wnancial
ability to care for the child, a child brought to a Western nation from an
orphanage in a developing country, an abused child removed from his or her
birth family and placed with an unrelated adult, a child placed across racial
lines, a child with a disability placed into a new family with other children
with special needs, and other situations. In our research, adoption arrangements diVered in terms of openness, that is, the degree and type of contact
occurring between the childs adoptive parents and birth family members.
ConWdential adoptions are those in which no identifying information is
shared; parties know only vague general information about each other. In
mediated adoptions, communication between the adoptive and birth families
takes place through a third party (such as an agency social worker) who relays
information without identifying details back and forth. Fully disclosed adoptions are those in which parties to the adoption have identifying information
about one another and typically have ongoing contact of some sort, although
it may vary greatly in frequency and intensity.
As adopted children grow up, their adoptive parents help them construct
an adoption story that answers concrete questions such as Where was I
born? and What does my birth mother look like? The process evolves in
the context of communication between child and adoptive parents questions are asked, information is shared (Wrobel, Kohler, Grotevant, & McRoy,
in press). Over time, the questions become more subtle and existential. The

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

137

cognitive abilities that emerge in adolescence facilitate the development of an


increasingly multifaceted story, but also challenge the young person with contradictions and ambiguities that may emerge. Thus, the development of identity may be more complex for adopted adolescents than for their nonadopted
peers (Grotevant, 1997).
Most adopted adolescents experience some degree of diVerentness (e.g.,
physical appearance, personality, ethnic or cultural origins, disability) from
members of their adoptive families; many face the challenge of constructing
an identity from incomplete genealogical information; and all adopted adolescents must undertake coming to terms with themselves in relation to the
family and culture into which they were adopted. These additional tasks may
result in prolonged identity exploration, the postponement of other identity
work until issues regarding adoptive identity are resolved at some level, or
perhaps identity confusion.
In our work, adoptive identity is investigated using a narrative approach
that highlights the integration and coherence of the self (Grotevant, 1993;
McAdams, 1993, 2001, this volume; Polkinghorne, 1991). From this perspective, the adolescent is viewed as creating and recreating a life story that
makes meaning of and gives purpose to his or her experience of adoption.
This study attempts to categorize the narratives of adopted adolescents into
types based on exploration and the narrative attributes of structure and
content.
Adolescents adoptive identity narratives span the intersection of three
levels: the intrapsychic, relational, and social. The intrapsychic level includes
the individuals internal cognitive and aVective processes necessary for constructing an adoptive identity. The relational level includes the birth and
adoptive family relationships in which one negotiates and enacts ones adoptive identity. The social level includes interaction in contexts and relationships beyond the family. Adopted adolescents construct their adoptive identity at the intersection of these levels by making meaning of their experiences
within and across relationships and contexts.
Narrative approaches highlight the integration and coherence of the self
through the evaluation of the structure, content, and function of the narrative (McAdams, 1987). This study attended to the narrative aspects of structure and content. Moshman (1998), who considers identity an explicit theory of oneself as a person, noted that identity is not just a collection of
beliefs about oneself but rather is organized to generate an integrated conception (p. 3). This deWnition suggests that one way to conceptualize the
structure of the narrative is in terms of coherence, which describes how well
the story hangs together. In this study, two rating scales from the Family

138

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

Narrative Consortium (Fiese et al., 1999) were used to assess coherence. The
Wrst, Internal Consistency, reXects the completeness and development of the
theory present in the narrative. The second, Flexibility, refers to the individuals ability to take the perspective of others and to explore new ideas and
alternatives. The narrative content of interest in this study includes the
degree of salience or importance of the adoptive identity to the adopted
adolescent, as well as the level of positive and negative aVect expressed about
the adolescents sense of self as an adoptee. In addition to these narrative
components, the exploration of adoptive identity was examined as the identity work accomplished and then presented through the process of narrative construction (Grotevant, 1993).
In this chapter, cluster analysis is used to derive a typology descriptive of
adoptive identity. ProWles of each of the four types are presented, along with
a detailed case study of each type. Variations in the types by age, gender, and
adoption openness are also discussed.

METHOD

Participants

This examination of adoptive identity development was undertaken as part


of the Minnesota/Texas Adoption Research Project, a longitudinal study of
variations in openness in adoption arrangements; that is, contact between
members of the childs adoptive and birth families (Grotevant & McRoy,
1998). Adoptive families and birth mothers were initially recruited for the
study through 35 adoption agencies across the United States. Agencies were
instructed to select all previously placed children who were between ages 4
and 12 at the time of the interview and to sample randomly within levels of
openness until a set number of families and birth mothers were willing to be
interviewed. The sample was limited to children adopted through an agency
before their Wrst birthday; in which the adoption was not transracial, international, or special needs; and in which adoptive parents were married. A few
families (6.3%) and birth mothers (11.8%) were recruited through newspaper and periodical advertisements. The Wnal Wave I sample included 720
individuals: both parents in 190 adoptive families, at least one adopted child
in 171 of the families, and 169 birth mothers. Further details about Wave I
may be found in Grotevant and McRoy (1998).
Families were recontacted to participate in Wave II approximately 8 years
later, when the adopted children were between the ages of 12 and 20. The

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

139

Wnal Wave II sample included 177 adoptive families: 173 adoptive mothers,
162 adoptive fathers, 156 adopted adolescents, and 127 birth mothers. Wave
II information from 145 adoptive adolescents with complete data was used
for this study. Adopted adolescents were primarily Caucasian (92.6%) and
included 75 females and 70 males who ranged in age from 11 to 20 years
(M = 15.6). The adolescents were involved in conWdential (N = 38), mediated
(N = 36), and fully-disclosed (N = 71) adoptions.
Procedures

Adoptive families were interviewed in their homes in one session that lasted
4 to 6 hours. The session included individual interviews with each parent and
adopted adolescent, administration of several questionnaires, and a family
interaction task with both parents and the adopted adolescent. Responses of
each individual were not disclosed to other family members. Parents were
given the opportunity to review the interview protocol and questionnaire
booklet prior to our contact with the adolescent. Parents were permitted to
strike items if they wished; however, this rarely occurred.
The adolescent interview at Wave II covered the four identity domains of
occupation, friendship, religion, and adoption. The questions in the adoption section of the interview tapped adoption-related feelings, beliefs, and
knowledge. Most interviews lasted between 1 to 2 hours. Adolescent interviews were transcribed verbatim and coded using an analytic inductive
method.
Interview Coding

The Wrst pass of coding assessed the depth of adoptive identity exploration,
degree of positive and negative aVect regarding the adolescents adoptive identity, and extent of adoptive identity salience. Afterward, the adolescents interview was coded for two components of narrative coherence: internal consistency and Xexibility. Coding was individually completed by two to Wve
coders. Discrepancies were discussed and consensus achieved for each disagreement. The complete coding manual is available upon request.
Exploration. Exploration assessed how deeply an adolescent had explored his/her adoptive identity and was coded into four levels ranging from
no/minimal to great exploration of adoptive identity (interrater reliability,
M = 85.25%). A rating of 1 (no/minimal) indicated the adolescent showed
no or minimal evidence of thinking about adoptive identity or meaning of

140

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

adoption to the self; 2 (low) indicated limited depth in thinking about adoption or adoptive identity with little serious, reXective thinking; 3 (moderate)
indicated some depth of exploration with some serious, reXective thinking;
and 4 (great) indicated considerable depth in exploration with serious, reXective thinking that showed greater self-awareness and integration.
Salience. Salience assessed the prominence, importance, and meaning
of the adolescents adoptive identity and was coded on a 5-point scale from no
to high salience (interrater reliability, M = 88.39%). A rating of 1 (no) indicated adoptive identity did not matter to the adolescent (e.g., it was not
thought about); a 2 (low) indicated a matter-of-factness about sense of self
as an adopted person (e.g., adolescent may say, Its not a big deal.); a 3
(moderate) indicated the adoptive identity exists and has meaning for the
adolescent, however the adoptive identity may be balanced with other identities; a 4 (moderately high) indicated the adoptive identity is very important
to the adolescent, but does not overwhelm the adolescents sense of self; and
a 5 (high) indicated the adoptive identity may consume great psychic and
emotional energy and may be the identity that is most prominent or a leading theme in the adolescents sense of self.
The rating of salience of adoptive identity was based primarily on the level
of importance and prominence of the identity; the degree to which the adoptive identity inXuenced behaviors, thoughts, decisions, and feelings; and the
adolescents ranking of the adoptive identity in relation to Wve other identity
domains. However, raters also considered the following in making a coding
decision: (a) degree of adoptive identity exploration, (b) level of positive and
negative aVect associated with adoptive identity, (c) the number of relationships in which the adolescent interacts about adoption related issues
(breadth) and the amount of thought and feeling that occurs in these interactions (depth), and (d) adolescents acknowledgment of diVerences between
adoptive and nonadoptive families.
Internal Consistency. Internal Consistency measured the completeness
of the content of the narrative on a 5-point scale, ranging from no to a welldocumented theory (interrater reliability, M = 85.26%). A rating of 1 (no theory) indicated that no theory could be identiWed in the narrative; 2 (unsupported theory) indicated very little elaboration of examples was present in the
narrative; 3 (theory with some support) indicated that personal details and
generalizations about ones own experiences were provided, but generally only
when prompted by the interviewer; 4 (theory in progress) indicated that
statements were consistently supported with evidence and suggested the pres-

6.

141

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

ence of emerging complexity in the theory; and 5 (well-documented theory)


indicated that the theory showed complexity and detailed elaboration.
Flexibility. Flexibility measured the adolescents ability to view issues as
others might see them and to explore new ideas and alternatives on a 5-point
scale, ranging from low to high Xexibility (interrater reliability, M = 86.81%).
A rating of 1 (low Xexibility/rigid) indicated that the narrative strongly adhered to one perspective and that presented issues were all one-sided; 2 (moderately low Xexibility) indicated the adherence to one perspective with minimal recognition of alternative views that might be dismissed as invalid; 3
(moderate Xexibility) indicated a narrative with clear recognition of more
than one perspective; 4 (moderately high Xexibility) indicated a narrative that
included elaboration of two or more perspectives; 5 (high Xexibility) indicated a narrative in which two or more perspectives were integrated and
resolved.
Positive and Negative Affect. Degree of aVect was coded separately
(for positive and negative aVect) on two 5-point scales, ranging from no to
strong aVect (interrater reliability positive aVect, M = 86.61%; negative aVect,
M = 87.50%). Raters used these codes to evaluate how the adopted adolescent felt about being adopted and/or having an identity as an adopted person.
A rating of 1 (no/minimal) indicated no or minimal feelings about adoption
or a sense of neutrality; 2 (low) indicated reluctant and/or nondeWnitive emotions; 3 (moderate) indicated moderately intense emotions such as liking or
disliking; 4 (moderately strong) indicated emotions falling between moderate
and strong; and 5 (strong) indicated extreme or intense emotions such as loving or hating.

RESULTS

Cluster analysis by cases (Hair & Black, 2000) was used to classify the adolescents according to the extent to which their narratives about adoption were
developed and demonstrated exploration, salience, and aVect. Age and gender were left outside the clusters rather than incorporated as an intrinsic
part of them because identity was thought to vary as a function of these characteristics. Age and gender are considered explicitly in the results and discussion that follow. The following variables were included in the cluster analyses:
Adoptive Identity Exploration, Salience of the adoptive identity, Internal
Consistency of the narrative, Narrative Flexibility, and Negative and Positive

142

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

FIG. 6.1.

ProWle of adoptive identity types.

AVect. Further details about the development of the clusters may be found in
Dunbar (2003).
Description and Profile of Identity Types

As seen in Fig. 6.1, the cluster analysis provided convincing evidence of four
types of adoptive identity, Unexamined (n = 24), Limited (n = 46), Unsettled
(n = 30), and Integrated (n = 45). The four types of adoptive identity suggest
a progression of increasing exploration and narrative development. The statistical justiWcation for the types and the quantitative data validating the types
are presented in Dunbar (2003) and are not repeated here, since the focus of
this chapter is on the identity narratives.
The following cases were selected to be representative of the narratives in
each identity type. First cases were selected to represent the predominant age,
gender, and openness within each type. Then the identity variable scores for
these cases were evaluated for closeness to type means and modes. Finally, if
more than one possible case was identiWed, a narrative was chosen that contained themes similar to those found in other narratives within that type.
Trevor,1 who is almost 13, constructed a narrative characteristic of the Unexamined type. He had not thought much about
Unexamined Identity.
1 All

names are pseudonyms.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

143

his adoption, and the ideas he did express had not been examined deeply. He
doesnt really remember being told about his mediated adoption, however he
thinks it Didnt really bug me then. Never really does anymore. He doesnt
have many feelings about his birth mother, whom he met once when he was
7 (she died shortly thereafter), I dont know, I didnt really get to know her,
so . . . I met her one time, and then she died, so. It was nothing there. He
hasnt given much thought to his feelings about his birth father, Ah . . . I
dont know just because I havent met him, but, I havent really paid any attention to it.
Conversations with his family about adoption are rare and when he tries
to talk with his friends he Wnds its too confusing, I just kind of tell them,
like, what happened and stuV like that, nothing, you know, its not, like, big
details and everything, its just they dont understand mostly . . . it just kind
of gets them confused whatever I say, so I just say, Dont talk to me about it.
Views on openness in adoption are only provided when probed by the interviewer, I dont really know, I havent really paid attention to anything like
that, at all. I just kind of want to meet my birthdad, basically thats really all.
He says having contact with his birth family doesnt really matter but also
expresses positive feelings about meeting his birth mother, Well, I thought it
was kind of nice to be able to meet her, because most people dont really get
to meet their adopted [sic; means birth] parents because some of them dont
even want to see them and others do. He declares adoption doesnt enter into
his life or decisions, I think most of the things that I do, just, its kind of,
like, No, it doesnt really matter, its not bad and its not good. However, the
strength of this view is compromised by his fairly unarticulated connections
between himself as an adopted person and his families of adoption and birth,
. . . just kind of connects, basically, because Im kind of getting to meet my
family and so, were going toyou know, just going to going to be able
were getting together in summer and stuV, and what he does at church,
They just, kind of have a party to get together so, they other adopted kids
get to meet the other ones . . . theres a Christmas party for them and stuV like
that. Its nothing, like, really big and not like major group, like, we do activities and stuV like that and its, you know, fun. The overall impression from
Trevors narrative is that adoption is a minor part of his life that he has not
spent much time or energy contemplating.
Many adolescents in this group had not thought about adoption issues
raised by the interview and often answered questions with I dont know, or
provided short statements as answers. As seen in Table 6.1, these adolescents
exhibited the lowest mean scores on all variables except Negative AVect. Most
of these narratives showed no depth in exploration of adoptive identity and

144

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

TABLE 6.1
Means (M) and Standard Deviations (SD) of Identity Variables
by Adoptive Identity Type
Type
Variable
Exploration
Salience
Internal consistency
Flexibility
Positive aVect
Negative aVect

M
SD
M
SD
M
SD
M
SD
M
SD
M
SD

Unexamined
24

Limited
46

Unsettled
30

Integrated
45

1.17a
0.38
1.17a
0.38
2.46a
0.83
2.46a
0.78
1.38a
0.65
1.42a
0.78

2.15b
0.47
2.13b
0.54
3.09b
0.46
3.07b
0.68
2.67b
0.60
1.39a
0.58

2.83c
0.65
3.17c
0.65
3.60c
0.81
3.07b
0.74
2.87b
0.90
3.57b
0.82

3.47d
0.55
2.98c
0.62
4.36d
0.57
4.29c
0.63
3.69c
0.85
1.67a
0.74

h2

113.63

.50
.71

74.23

.61

53.33

.53

44.93

.49

49.49

.51

67.19

.59

Note. Pillais Trace = 1.50, p < .001. Reported F values refer to follow-up univariate
tests; all F tests signiWcant at p < .001; df = 3, 141. DiVerent superscripts in the same row
denote signiWcant diVerences between means, using planned comparisons with Bonferroni
adjustment.

revealed no salience of the adoptive identity for the adolescent (see Table 6.2
for details). The internal consistency of most narratives was very low, indicating loose theories with little support. Narrative Xexibility followed a similar
pattern, with most narratives revealing a low to moderate ability to perspective-take or explore new ideas. Little emotion was displayed in the majority of
the narratives. Adolescents with narratives in this type were more likely to be
male and more often in conWdential adoptions (see Table 6.3).
Several themes emerged from these narratives that provide insight into the
evident lack of exploration. Some adolescents disinterest in understanding
more about their adoption and what it means to them seemed tied to their
feelings of rejection by their birth parents (I guess if they sent me up for
adoption, they didnt want me then, I dont think they would want me now;
If they wanted me to live with them then they wouldnt have put me up for
adoption). Other adolescents reported a hesitancy to delve deeper into adoption issues because they were happy with the way their lives were currently
(Im happy just the way I am . . .) or because they were afraid that exploring

6.

145

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

TABLE 6.2
Percentage of Cases for Identity Variables Within Adoptive Identity Types
Type
Variable
Exploration
No/minimal
Low
Moderate
Great
Salience
No/minimal
Low
Moderate
Moderate/high
High
Internal consistency
No theory
Unsupported
Some support
In progress
Well-documented
Flexibility
Low/rigid
Moderate/low
Moderate
Moderate/high
High
Positive aVect
No/minimal
Low
Moderate
Moderate/strong
Strong
Negative aVect
No/minimal
Low
Moderate
Moderate/strong
Strong

Unexamined
24

Limited
46

83.3%
16.7%

4.3%
76.1%
19.6%

83.3%
16.7%

8.7%
69.6%
21.7%

8.3%
50.0%
29.2%
12.5%

6.5%
78.3%
15.2%

8.3%
45.8%
37.5%
8.3%

19.6%
54.3%
26.1%

70.8%
20.8%
8.3%

2.2%
32.6%
60.9%
4.3%

75.0%
8.3%
16.7%

65.2%
30.4%
1.4%

Unsettled
30

Integrated
45

30.0%
56.7%
13.3%

2.2%
48.9%
48.9%

6.4%
66.7%
20.0%
3.3%

17.8%
68.9%
11.1%
2.2%

3.3%
50.0%
30.0%
16.7%

4.4%
55.6%
40.0%

3.3%
13.3%
56.7%
26.7%

6.7%
23.3%
50.0%
16.7%
3.3%

3.3%
53.3%
26.7%
16.7%

8.9%
53.3%
37.8%

2.2%
48.9%
26.7%
22.2%
46.7%
42.2%
8.9%
2.2%

146

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

TABLE 6.3
Age, Gender, and Adoption Openness Within Adoptive Identity Type
Type
Variable
Age
Mean
Range
Gender2
Female (75)
Male (70)
Openness3
ConWdential (38)
Mediated (36)
Fully disclosed (71)

Unexamined
24

Limited
46

Unsettled
30

Integrated
45

14.87
12.7218.11

15.18
11.5120.84

15.21
11.1019.11

16.671
12.7520.56

33.3%
66.7%

47.8%
52.5%

60.0%
40.0%

57.8%
42.2%

41.7%
29.2%
29.2%

26.1%
32.6%
41.3%

13.3%
20.0%
66.7%

26.7%
17.8%
55.6 %

Note. 1Integrated adolescents were older than those in all other groups [F (3,144)
= 6.83, p < .001]. 2Gender was unequally distributed across types [c2(3, N = 145) =
5.59, p = .03]. 3In openness groups, identity types were unequally distributed within
fully disclosed adoptions [c2(3, N = 145) = 9.85, p = .02].

adoption issues would be uncomfortable or take them somewhere they didnt


want to go (This is my life and Im happy with it . . . opening adoption
would drag something into a hole. . . . Because I feel like its over and that
Im happy where I am and I just dont want to mess with that other part.).
Finally, many narratives were characterized by the minimization of adoption
as a relevant issue for the adolescent (Adoption is irrelevant to everything, it
has no part in it really; I dont really think about adoption that much so its
just, I probably dont even realize that I am.).
At 13, Jason has begun to do some degree of thinking about how adoption relates to who he is. He remembers being told he was
adopted by his parents, but his memory is vague and he feels the disclosure
had little impact on him: I know it was when I was young, because Ive
always known about it, but, I dont really remember what age I was at. I mean
it was like, Im sure it was probably when I was like, 6 or, 5, 6 or 7, but, I may
not have understood what it meant then, but I know, I remember being told
about it, back then. . . . My mom and dad adopted me in like some court or,
something it was, like, I remember being told that my birthmom like had us
in a special court and they handled or they, adopted me and Im really not
sure like what I was Wrst told, like, how my mom told me that she wasnt my
Limited Identity.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

147

real mom. . . . It didnt really make any diVerence to me because I still love my
mom and dad because theyre the ones who raised me everything and, didnt
really make me feel any diVerent than how I already was.
He doesnt feel a strong need to talk about adoption and the conversations
that he does have with others are infrequent and unemotional; however, he
also recognizes that, I mean, you have to be like a strong person like, to be
able to like take all the questions that people ask you. He doesnt really talk
with his parents about it anymore, I think before, they, I just ask them questions about it, theyd answer me about that . . . we used to talk about it more,
like I didnt know as much about everything. When he talks with his friends
he just tries to explain adoption as well as he can, but hed rather just like to
have fun. His interactions with his birth mother are also low-key: I just talk
her sometimes on the phone or I write letters and, pretty much, I dont feel
like I really need to have to talk about it like, Im not happy with myself or
something.
His description of his meeting with his birth mother and family is matterof-fact: We just, they just came in and we talked for a while and then, my
little, half-brother really, really liked balls so, we like played baseball outside
with him and, thats what we did most the time and then we ate. He doesnt
feel a sense of urgency around needing to see his birth family again, Whenever we have time to would be nice, like were going to go down for a basketball tournament this year but, we couldnt go down for that. So, well probably make another time sometime, Im not sure when, though. For him the
meetings are enjoyable, although he Felt nervous before, during it was fun
because I got to know them and knew what they liked to do. After the meeting, I thought, I was like happy that I met them and I thought it was pretty
fun that we had done that.
He likes his birth mother and thinks of her as, just another friend that we
can have, that I can have and, Im not sure really. He doesnt really get bothered or worried by anything really, about them ever. He believes his birth
mother is Happy, like because I just get to see her and my mom and dad
write to her and tell her how I do and everything so. And I dont really know
like what she expects from me and I think shes just happy that I, we keep in
touch with her and I write letters and stuV. At this point, knowing his birth
mother does not have intense emotional meaning for him.
He feels positively about the connections he has with his birth mother and
her family, but would like to know more about his birth father, Id like to
know what my dad looks like, and where he is now. Pretty much, Id just be
able to, I know quite a bit about my mom and Id be able to Wnd out more
about her because I know where she is and, if I really want to get in touch

148

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

with her, Id be able to. He enjoys exchanging gifts with his birth family, I
like it because I feel good that I can send or they send stuV to me and I can
send stuV to them, it makes me feel good I kind-of like, makes them, I dont
know, little kids happy too, and so, and feels lucky that he receives things
from them, I feel like, fortunate that they send stuV to me that they care
enough to send stuV.
He reveals some ways that he thinks adoption connects with his life, but he
has not thought deeply about these linkages. He has musical talent like his
birth grandfather, . . . he played musical instruments and I do too. So, my
mom and dad told me that . . . that I had talents like he did. . . . I just all of
a sudden like, was I like wanted to play the cello2 and stuV and I was pretty
good at it, for not practicing very much. Adoption does not aVect his future:
marriage any way or having children or adopting and Im pretty sure wed try
and have children Wrst, but like, and if we wouldnt Im sure Id try and adopt
some kid. He recognizes his life would be somewhat diVerent if he had not
been adopted, but he believes he would not be much diVerent, Well I know
Id be in a diVerent town. Id have a stepdad and two, a half-brother and a
half-sister. Well, I think Id be the same kind of person though, because my
mom is really nice and friendly and, I dont think it would be too much different from this.
His views about the meaning of adoption and family are tied to religion;
however, he has diYculty clearly articulating his beliefs, . . . my mom has
this thing that she says, like when Im asleep sometimes she like comes in my
room and like, says this thing like, its like, Youre Xesh in my Xesh, no bone
in my bone so miraculously of my own, Ill never forget for a single minute
you didnt grow under my heart but in it. But, I like, thats kind-of like spiritual and stuV and has something to do with it. Although the connections he
has made are not easily apparent in his narrative, the meaning for him helps
to explain extended family ties: With my extended family, like even though
Im not really blood-related to them I mean, it still feels good to know that
they love me even though, Im not really blood-related to them. And thats
like a positive feeling.
Although he has mentioned various ways being adopted is a unique experience (having birth family, not being blood-related) he also believes that
being adopted is just like not being adopted, I would say, I dont know, its
just like being like a real kid and, your parent, you still have like, you still have
the right over the kid and like, the parents have the say in everything and its
just like a normal, your own child.
2 Potentially

identifying details have been changed.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

149

Most adolescents in this group were willing to think about and discuss
adoption, but did not recognize it as a huge issue in their lives. As seen in
Table 6.1, these adolescents exhibited scores in the mid-range on most variables. The narratives of most of these adolescents showed modest depth in the
exploration of adoptive identity and revealed little salience attached to the
adoptive identity (see Table 6.2 for details). In general, these narratives contained simple theories that had sparse supporting evidence and showed moderate Xexibility. Moderately intense expression of positive aVect, accompanied
by a range of no to low negative aVect was found in over half of the narratives.
Both boys and girls were equally represented in this type and participated
in a range of openness contexts (see Table 6.3). In conWdential adoptions contact was seen as potentially disruptive and some adolescents reported fear,
mostly when they were younger, about birth parents coming to reclaim them.
In mediated adoptions most adolescents planned to contact their birthmothers at age 18. In adoptions where contact had stopped, the thought of
reinitiating contact brought up feelings of awkwardness, I dont know what
Id say if I saw her. However, for those who wished to meet birth parents,
most desired only to see if there were physical similarities with birthparents;
very few wished to establish a relationship or meet birth parents to answer
deeper questions about the self. In fully disclosed adoptions, contact was seen
as normal, and the relationship with the birth mother was often close.
Adolescents in this group downplayed diVerences between adopted and
nonadopted families. Adoption was presented as being not any diVerent from
not being adopted (Theres no diVerence between whether I was their child,
their real child, or theirs like I am now. You know youre adopted, youre
adopted, you know. Its not any diVerent than if you were not adopted.). Perhaps consequently, few discussions about adoption took place within the
family. Most of these narratives presented adoption with an air of matter-offactness and with little emotional charge. Adoption was portrayed as accepted
fact that happened in the past and that hasnt had much impact on ones life
(I dont think too much about adoption. Its not a big issue in my life. I feel
its happened, you cant change that. Its just that it happened. Im glad it
happened instead of abortion, but, you know, besides that, it just happened.
Im Wne with it (adoption) and its just a thing of the past.). Most adolescents viewed adoption simply as a benevolent act that helps out a child by giving them a chance at a better life, and also by some as helping birth parents
to achieve their own goals in life such as Wnishing an education or eventually
obtaining a better job. Adolescents also acknowledged experiencing a Xuctuation in the frequency and intensity of thought about adoption over time
(Sometimes its important to me and sometimes it isnt). Many reported

150

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

talking about adoption more in the past and felt that adoption was more
important to them when they were younger. Adolescents mainly positive
acceptance of their adoption and denial of diVerences due to adoption, combined with low levels of curiosity and little emotional involvement, seem to
have led to limited exploration about adoption.
Unsettled Identity. Kelsey, who is 16 and in a fully disclosed adoption,
tells a story that shows she is working out her adoption-related thoughts and
feelings. Throughout her narrative she mentions the emergence of uncomfortable or negative thoughts and feelings that she alternatively ponders for
extended periods of time or tries to push out of her consciousness. For example, when describing conversations with others she says, I dont like to talk
about adoption, I dont want to talk about it all the time. . . . If I talk to people its mostly about the adoption process. . . . Sometimes I open up and talk
to people, but it doesnt happen very often. I just think a lot, like, during the
conversation and afterwards and I just kind of, I dont know, I feel diVerent
because no one else has the experience I have. I always get this weird feeling.
And then I have to think forever about it. Im just better if I dont think about
it. I always just wonder, like, little things, like, details about, like . . . people
always know, like, what time they were born. Thats always bothered me that
I dont know that and just, like, I dont know.
She has strong positive and negative feelings about her relationship with
her birthparents that she has examined to varying degrees. At one point she
declares she knows as much as I want to know (about my birth parents).
However, she also describes her curiosity about her birthfather, although she
limits her thinking about him: I dont think about my birth dad very often.
My (birth) mom has made an eVort to try to talk to me, so she should get to
know more than he shouldhe shouldnt get to know anything. . . . I dont
know if hed like to know anything because he hasnt tried. I dont know if he
wants to know about me, or . . . I kind of just want to know where hes at or
what hes doing with his life, but I dont know if theres a way I can Wnd that
out so I dont really think about that. She enjoys exchanging pictures and letters with her birth mother: I like to have pictures, actually, because then I
can show my friends that this is who my mom is, this is who my little brother
and sister are (both laugh). And I like getting letters because I like to hear
what she has to say. The pictures are my favorite probably. But she continues
to speculate about unanswered questions: I always wonder, like, what she
was like when she was my age, what kind of things she did, if we looked alike
at all . . . shes always just the person Id wondered about, I dont ever know
about her.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

151

Kelsey feels uncomfortable when she has direct contact with her birth
mother but hasnt really examined why she feels this way: We talked and I
felt really uncomfortable. I dont know, she cried, and she was hugging me, it
was just weird. Youre excited, but and you want to see them, but then as soon
as you see them its . . . it changes all of a sudden. Like, I remember I was so
excited, but during it, not excited at all. (laughs) . . . back then I was just, like,
Oh, now Ive met my birthmom no big deal kind of thing, but I didnt
really think much afterwards . . . I just told my (adoptive) mom I didnt like
it and it was uncomfortable and I probably didnt want to do it again for
awhile, so shes waiting. She is angry that her birth mother didnt want to tell
her kids about Kelsey. I think the one thing that bothers me the most is the
fact that she wasnt going to tell her kids about me, until we kind of pushed
it. And I dont know why she should have to hide that from them . . . I mean
theyre young and theyll understand it and then theyll grow up knowing. I
think thats fair, more fair to them than just popping it up one day. Other
than that I respect her wishes. . . . Sometimes I question what she did, but
thats her choice. Although these feelings are diYcult for her, she continues
to feel positively about contact with her birth family in the future, Ive
always just wanted to get to spend time with my mom (birth) and my little
brother and sister and my grandma and I hope that Ill be able to do that
someday without feeling uncomfortable. She is (a part of my life). Not a huge
part because I dont see her very often and I dont really talk to her. Shes
deWnitely a part.
Kelsey believes adoption is tough. (Adoption is) a great learning opportunity, I mean, Ive learned a lot from it, but it also it has a bad times to it, its
not just perfect, you know, like, its a lot harder than just having your own
kids. She attributes the distance in her relationship with her adoptive mom
to adoption, My mom (adoptive) and I arent very close and I know thats
(adoption) the reason. I mean if, Im sure if I lived with my real mom wed be
a lot closer, wed talk about it and thats just hard because all my friends can
talk to their moms. And she believes her relationship with her parents would
be better and more open if she were their biological child. Due to these beliefs
she thinks those considering adoption should, know what theyre getting
into before they just go and adopt, I mean I think they should really think
about it and Im sure my parents probably did, but theres always going to
be struggles with adoption and people are just going to have to understand
that. However, she would hesitate to adopt, herself: I would probably never
adopt. Well, as much as I want to have kids, if I couldnt I dont, I dont know.
Just seeing what our family has gone through, I dont think I want to put my
family through that. . . . we always get in little Wghts about, you know, I want

152

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

to go with my mom, I dont want to live here, I hate you guys. You know,
when really we should be thankful for them adopting us, instead of being
nowhere. Its just not a perfect scenario.
A high degree of negative aVect was attached to the adoptive identity of
most adolescents in the Unsettled group. These adolescents were in the process of sorting out their feelings around their adoptions (Im still kind of trying to Wgure out that one (adoption), I have questions I know theres no
answers for.). As seen in Table 6.1, narratives of adolescents in this group
exhibited the highest scores on salience and negative aVect. Over half of the
adolescents produced narratives showing evidence of the existence of an
adoptive identity that mattered to the adolescent and more than one Wfth of
the remaining narratives displayed higher levels of salience in which the adoptive identity was more prominent or important than all other identities (see
Table 6.2 for details). A large range of intensity of aVect was present in the
narratives. Most narratives included moderate positive aVect. With one
exception, moderate or greater levels of negative aVect were expressed in the
narratives, and the expression of negative aVect usually either equaled the
expression of positive aVect (n = 10; 33.3%) or outweighed that of positive
aVect by one or two degrees (n = 14; 46.7%). However, in Wve narratives the
expression of positive in comparison to negative aVect was more prevalent by
one degree. Most narratives revealed some substantial thinking in the exploration of adoptive identity. In general, these narratives contained theories that
were either both simple and consistent with some support by limited evidence or in the process of development with emerging complexity. Similar to
the Limited type, most narratives showed moderate Xexibility. Adolescents
with narratives in this type were more likely to be female and participating in
fully disclosed adoptions (see Table 6.3).
Most adolescents expressed dissatisfaction about the frequency, consistency, and intensity of contact with birthparents. In general, adolescents in
conWdential adoptions were bothered by the lack of information about their
backgrounds and wanted to search, although they were ambivalent about
making contact. Adolescents in mediated and fully disclosed adoptions were
troubled by inconsistent contact with their birth mothers. Across all openness
levels adolescents expressed frustration with inadequate information about
birth fathers and resentment towards those who broke promises, were disinterested, absent, or lied. Adolescents expressed anger and sadness toward birth
parents due to feelings of rejection around the initial placement (She chose
not to be a part of my life, so I chose for her not to be a part of mine.) and
additional rejection when contact in mediated and fully disclosed adoptions
stopped (Im glad that she made the right choice with giving us up for adop-

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

153

tion, but Im mad that she hasnt tried to get a hold of us, and then kept in
touch with the adoption agency. To see if we could meet her.). Adolescents
used phrases such as thrown out, gotten rid of, discarded, and trashed
kid to describe themselves.
Negative feelings were also expressed around interactions with peers, relationships within the adoptive family, and relationships between the adoptive
and birth families. Many adolescents confronted teasing from peers or dealt
with conversations where others didnt understand adoption. Almost half of
the adolescents mentioned that adoption created some degree of diVerence in
their families (Sometimes it makes me feel left out . . . like Im not part of
the family or anything, It will probably be harder for them because, they
might not feel like really attached because theyre not blood related.) Adolescents also mentioned problems in the adoptive family due to adoption,
such as feelings of distance among family members, especially between adoptive mothers and daughters, or conXict between the adolescent and adoptive
siblings or cousins. Across openness levels adolescents expressed concern
about the relationship between the adoptive and birth families, including
anxiety about hurting adoptive parents by initiating a search or becoming too
close to the birth mother, distress around hostility between the two sets of
parents (I need to keep them from being mad at each other and stuV ), or
feelings that the two families were very diVerent (I have two separate families, Its like two diVerent cultures.). In some instances the culmination of
multiple negative experiences around adoption resulted in adolescents who
had decided never to adopt in the future (Well, hopefully I wont have to
adopt because I know what its like for kids and the parents. Because, I mean,
I feel diVerent than them, and so I dont want my kids to feel diVerent than
me. . . . I dont want to have my kids be adopted, because then I guess I would
just feel less and less complete.). In summary, adolescents in the Unsettled
group were in the process of working through their feelings around their
adoption, principally in relation to their birth parents.
Integrated Identity. In her narrative, Jody clearly explained how important her adoption is to her. At 17, she has thought a great deal about her
conWdential adoption, especially in relation to her birth parents. She has
gained an understanding of herself by considering who she is in relation to
both her adoptive and birth parents. My birth father, was like a mechanic or
something. And I like, Im alwaysmy hands are always moving and Im
always wanting to Wx things and work with my hands which I dont know if
that has anything to do with it (both laugh) but I just think that is kind of
neat. And I know that, from the papers, I know that she (birth mother) has

154

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

like, I think it says she either has blue or grey eyes and I have blue eyes, so its
likeand my dad (birth) has grey eyes. So, I think that thats where I got my
eyes from and my hair color, too, because she has the same color hair as me
and that (pause) I think thatyeah, she was like Wve six and I think Im Wve
six now. . . . I am very thankful that I have, I think some of her characteristics, I dont know. And I think that I have a pretty good personality which,
you know, some people say you get your personality from people you are
around most like your parents that you grew up with, but Im nothing like
my nothing like my mom (adoptive), nothing at all. And its, I mean, I
guess, I agree with her on some things but Im more like my dad than her and
so I think that if anyone, I got most of my personality from probably, you
know, just through my blood or however you get it and from my dad that I
live with, also.
Jody has examined how adoption issues relate to her life in many ways.
She has considered how her life might have been diVerent if she hadnt been
adopted, Well if I was living with my birth mother still Im sure it would
be I would be a totally diVerent person because I would either see myself
as being a much stronger person for having to deal with the struggles that
Im sure there would be, you know, many of them or I could see myself as
being really weak for feeling let down by the life I was living if thats the way
it was and if thats the way it wasnt then, I dont know. At one time she felt
pressured to be active in the Methodist Church because she knows her birth
mother is Methodist and she felt the only way to relate to her was to go to
church. She wants to volunteer to talk with people who are adopted and
thinks that she gets the strength to do good from reXecting on what a
tough decision her birth mother made. She is determined to get a good job
in the future so she can feel good about herself when she meets her birth
mother.
Jody spends a great deal of time and emotional energy thinking about contacting her birth mother. When I talk to Joel (boyfriend) about it, I just I get
oV the phone with him whatever and I just, like, bawl my eyes out. Im just
like, Ahhhhhh! Do I look like her? Where is she, where is she? you know, and
its just because I want so badly just a picture or a letter or something. Could
be anything. You know, and Ivea lot of times Ive thought well maybe if
I go to the high school and look in the yearbooks in like 77 and look for
somebody who looks like me. I mean, just little daydreams like that that are
so dumb just get me so worked up. And I just, you know, talk to people about
it and then sometimes I feel better, like, Ok, just calm down. But sometimes
I feel like Ahhh! Whats going to happen in the next few years? you know,
because I dont know.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

155

She wonders if her birth mother remembers her. My dad (adoptive) and
I had a conversation once about if she thinks about me or if she just tried to
forget about me. He just told me, hes like, dont worry about that. NinetyWve percent of the people that weve talked with still have never forgotten
about their kids whether they be eighty years old or whether it just happened
a week ago. So, it makes me feel really good knowing that, you know, maybe
she isand especially right now being my birthday and everything. I wonder if shes thinking about me now because, like, she had me, you know, so.
Meeting her birth mother is Jodys lifetime dream. She repeatedly tries to
get more information about her adoption from her mother and reminds her
father that she will begin her search when she turns 18. Sometimes I talk to
her (adoptive mom) about, like, if she knows anything. I try and push things
out of her like, Are you sure you dont know anything more? And I get so
mad at her, Im like, Are you sure, are you sure? . . . And my dad and I, we
dont really talk about it that much but I told him, I said, You know, when I
turn eighteen, we are going down to the agency and Im looking in that Wle.
She attributes some of her motivation for searching to the distance she feels
with her adoptive mother. She wants to meet her birth mother, not to replace
her adoptive mother, but because she wants more of a mother Wgure. She
has strong feelings for her birth mother and feels connected to her, Even
though I dont know her personally, its like Im a part of her, a very big part
of her. And so, I like I love her in a way, you know, just for knowing that shes
there . . .
At the core of Jodys narrative are her conXicted and sad feelings about the
importance of biological connectedness and belonging. She doesnt feel bad
about being adopted but, she is always so envious of how my step sister and
brothers look exactly like my step-mom. . . . So, I mean, I dont feel bad about
it but I justI feel kind of lonely sometimes. These feelings are plainly in
her discussion about marriage and children, I think that for marriage and for
having children, I think that having my own kids is like the most important
thing that a marriage would bring to me because it would be like children
that Im starting a whole new background with, you know, if I never met my
birth mother. . . . Like, because I know that knowing my grandparents now
that I have I wished that they were my real grandparents because its like they
have such a great background. So thats what I would want to start is just a,
you know, a background for my kids, just somebody who I could call my
own. My own blood, my own everything, you know.
Jody concludes her narrative by expressing her urgency around contacting
her birth mother, All I can think of is is there is any way possible, like, ever
to have contact with like my birth fammy birth mother. That would just

156

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

be like. If I ever knew anybody who could help me with that then I want to
know who they are because thats like really important to me and I just want
somehow for, you know, because Ive been told that my birth mother might
have moved to the south somewhere to live with her parents or something, or
with his parents. So, they might not even be living in California anymore and
if theyre not then they might not have as easy access into my Wles.
Adolescents whose narratives showed an Integrated Identity had been able
to incorporate negative and positive aspects of their adoption into a serviceable identity for the present and an adaptive sense of self for the future. These
adolescents exhibited the highest scores on all variables except for salience and
negative aVect (see Table 6.1). With one exception, these narratives showed
moderate to great depth in the exploration of adoptive identity (see Table 6.2
details). Over three quarters of the adolescents produced narratives with
moderate or greater salience showing evidence of the existence of an adoptive
identity that mattered to the adolescent; the remainder of the narratives
showed lower salience in which the adoptive identity was portrayed with a
sense of matter-of-factness. In general, these narratives contained theories
that showed moderately high Xexibility and were either in the process of
development, with emerging complexity, or well documented, with detailed
and synthesizing explanations. All narratives showed at least a moderate
degree of positive or negative aVect, and were characterized by either balanced
levels of positive and negative aVect (n = 5; 11.1%) or greater positive than
negative aVect (n = 40; 88.9%). With one exception, moderate or greater
levels of positive aVect were expressed, and the expression of positive aVect
frequently outweighed that of negative aVect by two or more points (n = 29;
64.4%). Adolescents with narratives categorized as Integrated were signiWcantly older than adolescents in all other types and were more likely to be
female and participating in fully disclosed adoptions (see Table 6.3).
Many adolescents with narratives in this type recalled feeling special or
wanted when told about their adoption, and viewed their adoption as a
positive and happy thing (I kind of felt that it was a blessing . . . like I had
more family added to my family tree so I thought it was pretty cool, a secret
family that only I know about but I didnt know who they were, that loved
me.). These adolescents had imputed prosocial motives to their birth parents placement decisions, believing that their birth parents had placed them
with the childs best interest in mind, because they were too young to parent
and wanted a better life for the child. In addition, birthparents were described
with sympathy and compassion, and adolescents were willing to try to understand their actions (Probably one of the hardest things a person could ever
do is give up their child). Several narratives revealed the importance of God

6.

157

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

in understanding adoption (He chose this place, what I needed and was
going to need, He chose for me to be adopted, I think that was part of what
He wanted for me, I thank God for the family I have. I think He put me
here so I could grow up to be the person I want to be).
In general, relations with birth family members were depicted as safe,
understandable, and rewarding. In circumstances in which little information
was known about birth fathers, adolescents were likely to reserve judgment
rather than to assume a negative view. Across openness levels, adolescents
expressed motivation to further connections to birth family members. In
conWdential adoptions most adolescents expressed a desire to search for their
birth parents. Adolescents in mediated adoptions wanted increased contact
or openness. In fully disclosed adoptions, most adolescents either expressed
satisfaction with their relationships or wanted more contact currently or in
the future. Adolescents described establishing contact or initiating deeper
relationships with birth parents as opportunities for self-discovery (The part
that interests me the most about it, its just discovering why I am the way I
am, I want to see someone who looks like me because its the sense that yes
I belong in this family and stuV, but not really that I am connected to the
world, Finding a piece of the puzzle, thats what youre doing, Its neat
getting to know them because everything I learn about them, its something
more I learn about me).
Several narratives suggested that the adolescent had worked through challenging feelings about adoption at an earlier time. Some adolescents described how their feelings about being adopted changed as they matured (As
I grew older I realized it was the best thing for me at the time, When I was
little I worried I was placed because she didnt want me, now I know I was
placed because she cared enough, I felt diVerent, then I started to understand and I felt special). Other adolescents mentioned adoption was a more
important issue in the past (it consumed my childhood) and this was supported by reports that adolescents no longer discussed adoption with their
parents, in part because all their questions had been answered (I mean quite
frankly, everythings been said about that that can be said).

DISCUSSION

This chapter has probed the process of meaning-making for adolescents who
were adopted and has identiWed four patterns of adoptive identity based on
narrative criteria. Adolescents whose adoptive identities are Unexamined have
not very actively considered the meaning of adoption to them. They do not

158

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

consider adoption to be a very salient issue, and little positive or negative


aVect is associated with their view of adoption. Although Unexamined identities were found across all groups of adolescents, those in this category were
most often younger, male, and in conWdential adoptions. Adolescents in the
Limited group had explored adoptive identity to a modest degree but did not
feel that it was very important in their lives. They downplayed the diVerence
between adoptive and nonadoptive families, but generally viewed adoption as
positive for all concerned. This group included both males and females from
diVerent openness arrangements. Adolescents with Unsettled identities had
thought a great deal about adoption and typically harbored feelings of rejection and anger. They tended to be females and in fully disclosed adoptions.
Finally, adolescents with an Integrated adoptive identity had typically thought
a great deal of adoption and had developed a coherent, positive view of adoption and what it meant in their lives. In comparison to the other participants
in the study, these adolescents tended to be older, female, and from fully disclosed adoptions.
The patterns revealed in this narrative analysis are consistent with an Eriksonian perspective on identity development. The most extensive research in
the Eriksonian tradition has identiWed four identity statuses, which are based
on combinations of identity exploration and commitment (e.g., Marcia,
Waterman, Matteson, Archer, & Orlofsky, 1993). Our Unexamined and
Integrated types Wt most clearly within the identity status framework because
these types vary most obviously along the dimensions of exploration and
commitment. DiVusion is a pattern characterized by minimal consideration
of alternatives for ones identity and minimal commitment to a life choice.
Our Unexamined type is similar to diVusion, in that these adolescents have
thought little about their adoptive identity and consider it unimportant in
their lives. Identity achievement is noted when the adolescent has explored a
number of alternatives and has made a commitment in that domain. This is
consistent with our Integrated type, in which the adolescent has explored the
meaning of adoptive identity and can articulate it in the context of positive
and negative aVect. Our other two types, Limited and Unsettled, Wt less
clearly within an identity status framework because adolescents within each
of these types varied to a greater extent in the amount of exploration they had
undertaken. In addition, in mapping these types to the identity status framework, our narrative variables of internal consistency and Xexibility provide
only a loose proxy for the dimension of commitment. In our typology, adolescents with foreclosure status can be found in the Limited type, as demonstrated by narratives with key themes of acceptance of adoption as a little
explored and unchangeable fact that happened in the past (like an ascribed

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

159

identity). Adolescents in the moratorium status, who are actively engaging


identity options but have not yet made commitments, can be located mostly
within the Unsettled type.
Despite the similarities between the identity statuses and the narrative
adoptive identity patterns revealed in this chapter, the two systems diVer in
signiWcant ways because they use diVerent metaphors to characterize identity
and identity development. The identity statuses are based on adolescents
actions: to what degree have ideas been considered and have commitments
been made? These particular actions are paramount during adolescence because they are stage-speciWc responses to the challenges adolescents experience to their developing sense of competence (Ct & Levine, 2002).
The narrative approach uses a diVerent metaphor: that of the story. The
adolescents task is to construct a story that gives meaning to his or her life
in this case, speciWcally about adoptionconsidered in light of the adolescents expanding abilities to understand adoption in all its social, legal, ethical, and biological complexity. Although identity exploration is common to
the Eriksonian and narrative systems, the narrative patterns also focus on
coherence of the story, the narrators Xexibility in articulating it, the salience
of adoptive identity among other identity domains, and the aVect in which it
is embedded.
Future research should address potential developmental pathways in identity formation. The presence of a developmental progression through the four
identity statuses of Marcia and colleagues (i.e., diVusion, moratorium, foreclosure, identity achievement) has been vigorously debated (e.g., van Hoof,
1999; Waterman, 1999). Some statuses appear to be less mature than others
when judged by certain criteria. For example, identity achievement implies
extensive exploration of options for ones identity and commitment to a clear
choice, whereas diVusion implies absence of both exploration and commitment. However, longitudinal research has revealed that identity development
can be cyclical rather than linear. Marcia (1993) noted the discovery of cycles
of moratorium-achievement-moratorium-achievement, wherein adolescents
move from a state of indecision to one of commitment, but then later move
back to a position of indecision, albeit usually at a more sophisticated developmental level. Adolescents do not follow a single developmental progression
from one of the identity patterns to another. However, longitudinal analysis
of the narrative data should provide new insights into alternative developmental pathways and the more general developmental process of identity
development.
This research has implications for professionals who work with adopted
adolescents. First, it acknowledges the complexity of the identity development

160

D U N B A R A N D G ROT EVA N T

process and implies that parents, teachers, and mental health professionals
need to understand and accept the diversity of ways in which adolescents construct their adoptive identities. Second, it suggests the importance of providing an information-rich environment for adolescents so that their sense of
adoptive identity is based on fact rather than fantasy or assumption. Third,
the insights generated by the narrative approach reinforce the usefulness of
tools such as life books in working with children and adolescents who are
actively exploring identity issues. Finally, these results suggest that resolution
of identity issues takes time and the willingness to engage the topic (Grotevant, 1987). Although adolescents with Unexplored identities tended to be
younger and those with Integrated identities tended to be older, there was
considerable variation across the sample.
In the next stage of our longitudinal work with these adolescents, we will
be able to examine continuities and discontinuities in adoptive identity development. Which of the four groups was most likely to show change from adolescence to young adulthood? What happened to the adolescents with negative, unsettled identities when we Wrst interviewed them? Were they able to
step back from their pain and anger and develop integrated identities with a
diVerent balance of positive to negative aVect? Or did their negativity harden
over time? How stable were integrated identities? Under what circumstances
did adolescents with integrated identities during adolescence reconsider their
views and move into a phase of unsettledness or negativity? We will be able to
answer these and related questions when we embark on the next phase of our
research, which follows up these participants in young adulthood.

REFERENCES
Ct, J. E., & Levine, C. G. (2002). Identity formation, agency, and culture. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Dunbar, N. (2003). Adoptive identity: A narrative approach. Unpublished doctoral dissertation,
University of Minnesota, St. Paul.
Erikson, E. H. (1968) Identity: Youth and crisis. New York: Norton.
Fiese, B. H., SameroV, A. J., Grotevant, H. D., Wamboldt, F. S., Dickstein, S., & Fravel, D. L.
(1999). The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative style, and relationship
beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2, Serial No. 257).
Grotevant, H. D. (1987). Toward a process model of identity formation. Journal of Adolescent
Research, 2, 203222.
Grotevant, H. D. (1993). The integrative nature of identity: Bringing the soloists to sing in the
choir. In J. Kroger (Ed.), Discussions on ego identity (pp. 121146). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates.

6.

A D O P T I O N N A R R AT I V E S

161

Grotevant, H. D. (1997). Coming to terms with adoption: The construction of identity from
adolescence into adulthood. Adoption Quarterly, 1(1), 327.
Grotevant, H. D., Dunbar, N., Kohler, J. K., & Esau, A. L. (2000). Adoptive identity: How
contexts within and beyond the family shape developmental pathways. Family Relations,
49, 379387.
Grotevant, H. D., & Kohler, J. K. (1999). Adoptive families. In M. Lamb (Ed.), Nontraditional families: Parenting and child development (2nd ed., pp. 161190). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Grotevant, H. D., & McRoy, R. G. (1998). Openness in adoption: Connecting families of birth
and adoption. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hair, J. F., & Black, W. C. (2000). Cluster analysis. In L. G. Grimm & P. R. Yarnold (Eds.),
Reading and understanding more multivariate statistics (pp. 147205). Washington, DC:
American Psychological Association.
Marcia, J. E. (1993). The identity status approach to ego identity. In J. E. Marcia, A. S. Waterman, D. R. Matteson, S. L. Archer, & J. L. Orlofsky (Eds.), Ego identity: A handbook for
psychosocial research (pp. 121). New York: Springer-Verlag.
Marcia, J. E., Waterman, A. S., Matteson, D. R., Archer, S. L., & Orlofsky, J. L. (1993). Ego
identity: A handbook for psychosocial research. New York: Springer-Verlag.
McAdams, D. P. (1987). A life-story model of identity. In R. Hogan & W. Jones (Eds.), Perspectives in personality (Vol. 2, pp. 1550). Greenwich, CT: JAI Press.
McAdams, D. P. (1993). The stories we live by: Personal myths and the making of the self. New
York: Morrow.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5, 100
122.
Moshman, D. (1998). Identity as a theory of oneself. The Genetic Epistemologist, 26(3), 116.
[available online: www.piaget.org/GE/1998/GE-263.html]
Polkinghorne, D. E. (1991). Narrative and self-concept. Journal of Narrative and Life History,
1(23), 135153.
van Hoof, A. (1999). The identity status Weld re-reviewed: An update of unresolved and neglected issues with a view on some alternative approaches. Developmental Review, 19, 497
556.
Waterman, A. S. (1999). Identity, the identity statuses, and identity status development: A
contemporary statement. Developmental Review, 19, 591621.
Wrobel, G. M., Kohler, J. K., Grotevant, H. D., & McRoy, R. G. (in press). The family adoption communication model (FAC): Identifying pathways of adoption-related communication. Adoption Quarterly.

7
Adolescents Representations
of Parents Voices in Family Stories:
Value Lessons, Personal Adjustment,
and Identity Development
Mary Louise Arnold
University of Toronto

Michael W. Pratt
Cheryl Hicks
Wilfrid Laurier University
I remember when I was little once, I was making fun of this little girl.
She was, like, weird looking. I was just, like, Oh, my God, shes so
weird. And my mom was, like, Dont do that. You should, like, everybodys the same on the inside. They just may look diVerent. My mom
was just saying, like, you shouldnt make fun of people because theyre
diVerent, that theyre just like us. I was just like a little geek. Like, I was
making fun of somebody. . . . I was a mean little kid. . . . She said it,
like, she didnt say it yelling at me and stuV. She just said it so that I
understood that she was being serious. Because I dont think she likes it
when people make fun of other people. . . . She just doesnt like seeing
that. . . . I just really, I didnt really think about it when I was little. I
just really didnt think about it.
Kevin, age 14

As this adolescents story so vividly conWrms, parents play a deWning role in


their childrens value socialization. For most children, it is the beliefs and values Wrst experienced within the context of family life that shape their character and lay the foundation for healthy psychosocial functioning in adulthood
(Grusec & Kuczynski, 1997; Kagan & Lamb, 1987; Walker, 1999). Although
163

164

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

the inXuence of parents on a childs value socialization undoubtedly begins in


early childhood, it is perhaps especially critical during the adolescent years.
For it is during this period, with its striking advances in biological, cognitive,
and social development, that the child often begins to explore and question
familial norms and values in the quest for greater autonomy over his or her
own life (Erikson, 1968; Hill & Holmbeck, 1986; Holmbeck, PaikoV, &
Brooks-Gunn, 1995; Smetana, 1995, 1997; Silverberg & Gondoli, 1996;
Steinberg & Silverberg, 1986).
Not surprisingly, the parental task of value socialization is therefore also
particularly challenging during these years, as the adolescent cited at the
beginning of this chapter intimates (i.e., . . . she didnt say it, like, yelling
at me and stuV. She just said it so that I understood that she was being
serious.). Typically, the parent-child relationship undergoes sensitive renegotiation during adolescence, with parents granting greater freedom and independence to the child while also maintaining consistent support and encouragement (e.g., Collins, Gleason, & Sesma, 1997; Grotevant, 1998; Grotevant
& Cooper, 1998; Smetana, 1995, 1997). Despite the likelihood of increased
conXict with parents and a shifting of allegiance toward peers, research shows
that adolescents do customarily maintain close relationships with their parents, actively seeking advice and guidance from them on important life issues
(Allen & Land, 1999; Claes, 1998; Steinberg, 1990). And, even if parental
relations do become somewhat testy for a time, by early adulthood most
adolescents do subscribe to the values they were originally taught within the
family (OVer & Schonert-Reichl, 1992) and show a sense of obligation to it
(Fuligni & Pedersen, 2002). The developmental processes by which value
socialization occurs within the family, however, remain obscure. What are the
interpersonal dynamics of value teaching within the family? How do adolescents interpret and come to understand their parents value lessons and, ultimately, appropriate (or reject) these beliefs and values as their own?
For several years now, we have been addressing questions such as these in a
longitudinal study of adolescent value socialization within the family. In this
chapter, we describe a narrative approach we have adopted to investigate adolescents responsiveness to parental beliefs and values a construct we call
parent voiceas it is reXected in the adolescents stories of important value
learning experiences. We share with the proponents of narrative analysis represented in this volume a view that stories provide a powerful qualitative lens
through which to observe and document child development, for us illuminating the way the adolescent constructs an autonomous sense of his or her
own values in the context of parental inXuence. We begin with a brief overview of the theoretical framework of our work, before describing our method-

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

165

ological approach. We then summarize some of our recent research Wndings


and their implications for our understanding of parent-adolescent relations
and moral socialization more generally. Throughout the chapter, we provide
illustration of the parent voice construct through excerpts from the adolescents narratives of value learning experiences within the family.

THEORETICAL PERSPECTIVES ON THE ROLE


OF NARRATIVE IN DEVELOPMENT

As illustrated in the introductory excerpt from our data, adolescents narratives provide colorful snapshots of family life in this instance, providing a
glimpse of the way a mother taught her young son (now a reformed little
geek) the importance of fairness to others (or not making fun of weird looking little girls). Our research on the use of such stories to better understand
the family dynamics of value socialization is just one example of a growing
interest in the role of narrative within psychology. Described by Bruner
(1986) as a distinctive mode of thought, a way of representing the social
world and ones personal position and experiences within it, narrative is now
widely acknowledged as a viable and constructive means of understanding
and documenting human development (e.g., Day & Tappan, 1996; Fiese et
al., 1999; Hermans, 1996; McAdams, 2001). Narrative techniques are being
used to study an ever-widening range of developmental issues across various
contexts, as is well illustrated in this volume (e.g., Pratt & Fiese, this volume).
Within the Weld of moral development, more particularly, a number of
psychologists have recently turned to narrative techniques in an eVort to
more eVectively account for the contextual particularities of moral experience
believed to be neglected in the traditional paradigm of Piaget (1965) and
Kohlberg (1984). In their work on moral commitment, for example, Colby
and Damon (1992) provide an important example of the use of life histories
as a way of describing the integration of the self and morality in exemplary
social activists. Similarly, Tappan and his colleagues (Day & Tappan, 1996;
Tappan, 1991; Tappan & Brown, 1989) have described the development of
the moral self as reXected in the construction of a sense of personal authorship of moral stances and experiences through narrative analysis. More generally, narratives in the form of fables and epics have been used throughout
history to provide rich and meaningful accounts of moral character and to
inspire virtue in others (e.g., Coles, 1989; Vitz, 1990).
Our own perspective on the study of value socialization has been inXuenced by a number of contemporary psychologists whose work provides

166

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

conceptual illumination of the role of narrative in human development (e.g.,


Bruner, 1986; Habermas & Bluck, 2000; Hermans, 1996; McAdams, 1990,
2001; Tappan, 1991). From McAdams perspective, for example, it is narrative itselfa self-deWning life storythat constitutes the essential element
of the individuals construction of a sense of self or personal identity. In keeping with Eriksons (1968) concept of ego identity, McAdams (1990, 2001; see
also Habermas & Bluck, 2000) theorizes that it is in adolescence, with its
developmental advances in cognitive and psychosexual growth, that the child
is Wrst capable of adopting an historical, or autobiographical, perspective on
life. During these years, he argues, adolescents typically achieve a biographical coherence such that personal characteristics and beliefs can be understood
in terms of life experiences that may have precipitated them (Haberman &
Bluck, 2000). In McAdams (1990, p. 191) view, throughout this process
they rearrange and remythologize their past experience, highlighting certain
key scenesnuclear episodesor critical events that mark the self s continuity and change over time. Thus, adolescents gradually undergo a developmental process of putting their lives together (McAdams, 2001, p. 117)
by integrating past, present, and future into a coherent narrative of the self,
which provides psychosocial unity and purpose in life.
As subjective a process as it may seem, adolescent identity and value development does not take place in psychological isolation, however (Erikson,
1968; Penuel & Wertsch, 1995). The adolescent is exposed to and inXuenced
by a range of signiWcant others in the context of cultural and social life, all of
whom contribute in varying ways and to varying degrees to his or her construction of a personal belief system. As emphasized in the work of other narrative theorists (e.g., Day & Tappan, 1996; Hermans, 1996; Sarbin, 1986),
self or identity development is therefore essentially a dialogical process
that is, a process characterized by an interchange between mutually inXuencing voices or perspectives of others (Hermans, 1996, p. 31). In elucidating a more voiced conception of the self within narrative psychology,
Hermans (1996, p. 43) argues that the self is inevitably aware of the perspectives of others, and these external views are represented in the self as voiced
positions that dynamically interact within a persons mind as he or she faces
decisions and constructs a sense of self through such choices.
From a more purely developmental, yet strikingly complementary, perspective, our narrative approach to adolescent value acquisition is also grounded
in the traditional sociocultural framework of Vygotsky (1978) and Bakhtin
(1981), as more recently articulated by Wertsch (1991). From Vygotskys
(1978) perspective, the development of mature thought is a gradual process
of the appropriation of the social speech of childhood onto the inner mental

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

167

plane of verbal self-regulatory thinking. It is the phenomenon of private or


inner speech, the childs use of overt self-directed language to regulate
thought and behavior, through which this process occurs (e.g., Duncan &
Pratt, 1997). According to Vygotsky, the legacy of this developmental process
in the thought of the older individual is the dialogical nature of all such
thinking based in the gradual internalization of social interaction (Wertsch,
1991). In keeping with the views of Hermans (1996), therefore, the mind is
always in conversation with previous utterances or voices of the self
and of important others in the persons life experience. As described by
Bakhtin (1981), these interpolated voices of others are thus ventriloquated
through the individuals own voice.

PARENTING AND THE DEVELOPMENT


OF DIALOGICAL VOICE

Most audible among the developing childs inner voices undoubtedly will
be those of parents, who typically play a dominant role in his or her personal
belief and value development. Conceivably, the expression of parental voices
in a childs thinking could take various forms, depending on developmental
and family contexts. For instance, and perhaps most often, the parents voice
is likely to be concretely historical in nature, to be representative of past
advice or admonitions to the child (Day & Tappan, 1996; Ely & McCabe,
1993). An adolescent might recall an occasion when the parent has provided
direction or guidance in the past, which is then echoed in his or her inner dialogues about a current situation. However, we would certainly expect that
parental voice might become anticipatory as well. In facing a novel problem,
an adolescent might imagine how a parent would likely respond to his or her
choice of action, thus reXecting this voice of endorsement or disapproval in
inner thought (e.g., Pratt & Norris, 1999). In turn, then, we would expect
these inner voices to be representedor ventriloquated (Bakhtin, 1981)
in the overt narratives that adolescents tell about their value learning experiences. Recall, for example, the representation of a parental perspective in the
mind of the adolescent cited at the outset of the chapter: I dont think [my
mother] likes it when people make fun of other people. . . . She just doesnt
like seeing that. For this adolescent, a mothers voice is clearly audible as he
shares with us his current thinking about the importance of being respectful
of others.
As this excerpt suggests, the adolescents sense of a parentally mediated
ideal, and the parental perspective that emanates from it, have a strong

168

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

impact on the beliefs and values that characterize his or her emerging identity.
Thus, we would expect the quality of parent-child relations and family life
to inevitably aVect a childs receptivity or responsiveness to such parental
inXuence, and longer-term psychosocial adaptation and adjustment as well.
Darling and Steinberg (1993), for example, have suggested that an openness
to parental perspectives should be associated positively with the emotional
climate of the family, speciWcally with the degree to which the family is experienced by the child as authoritative in nature. Authoritative parenting is a
broad style of parental interaction that is characterized by the provision of
both guidance and structure, as well as warmth and responsiveness to the
childs individuality (Baumrind, 1991; Maccoby & Martin, 1983). In adolescence, such family authoritativeness is associated with more opportunities for
parent-child give and take, and with a greater reciprocity between parent and
child (Grotevant, 1998; Steinberg, 2001).
Considerable research has shown that authoritative parenting, as deWned
earlier, is predictive of better adolescent adaptation and adjustment (e.g.,
Steinberg, 2001; Steinberg, Lamborn, Darling, Mounts, & Dornbusch,
1994). This is presumably because such parenting provides for greater adolescent responsiveness to the parent, and the gradual growth of feelings of
mutuality within the relationship (Grotevant, 1998; Maccoby, 1992; Youniss
& Smollar, 1985; Wintre & YaVe, 2000), which in turn encourage a guided
sense of autonomy and mature decision-making on the part of the adolescent
(Grotevant & Cooper, 1998; Hauser, Powers, & Noam, 1991), key adaptive
tasks during this period of development in the life course (e.g., Erikson, 1963).

A NARRATIVE APPROACH TO THE STUDY


OF VALUE SOCIALIZATION WITHIN THE FAMILY

The central goal of our narrative research program has been to investigate the
processes by which adolescent value socialization occurs within the family
that is, how the developing adolescent constructs a personal belief and value
system through parental inXuence. Drawing directly from both narrative
(e.g., Hermans, 1996) and sociocultural (e.g., Wertsch, 1991) theory, we use
the term voice to depict the adolescents representation of the views of inXuential othersin this instance, parentsas reXected in their stories about
important value learning experiences within the family.
Although there would likely be several possible dimensions on which the
childs representation of parental voice might vary, to date our work has
focused on two of these in particularthe clarity of the adolescents perspec-

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

169

tive on this voice and the extent to which he or she is responsive to the voice
in his or her narrative representations of it. These dimensions, however, are
naturally somewhat confounded with each other. Whereas the parents voice
may be clearly audible in an adolescents story, but not necessarily listened to
or respected, it is highly improbable that parental voice could be uncertain or
vague, but strongly responded to by the adolescent.
An adolescents representation of the parent voice, it seemed to us, might
range from absent to minimal, on the one hand, up to the most sophisticated
level of reconstruction and appropriation for the self (e.g., RogoV, 1990)
on the other. At these most advanced levels, our derivation of the voice construct has been informed by the distinction Bakhtin has made between two
types of dialogical discourse, which we believe may be generally representative
of two developmental steps in the internalization process (e.g., Tappan,
1991). The Wrst is a form of externalized discourse in which the childs speech
reXects an unconditional allegiance to a voice of authority. This is characterized by a more detached recitation or parroting of parent beliefs that have
yet to be internalized and appropriated as ones own. In the second type, the
child engages in what Bakhtin has called internally persuasive dialogue.
Here, the voice of others is not only audible in the childs speech, but it has
also been assimilated and reconstructed by the child himself or herself, as
appears to be the case for the adolescent cited at the outset of the chapter (i.e.,
the reformed little geek). In such instances, the child may be said to be
claiming authority and responsibility . . . and authorizing [his or her] own
moral perspective (Tappan, 1991, p. 17).
To capture and depict these variations in adolescents responsiveness to
parental inXuence in a systematic way (and to enable us to relate these representations to standard quantitative measures of personal and family characteristics), we have developed a technique to assess parent voice as reXected
in adolescents narratives of important value learning experiences (Mackey,
Arnold, & Pratt, 2001; Pratt, Arnold, & Mackey, 2001). We categorize the
adolescents appropriation of parent voice on an ordered, 5-point scale (see
Table 7.1). Each level reXects the adolescents responsiveness to parental
beliefs and values and their integration into his or her own self-regulative
belief system. As described earlier, the central components of our measure
include the clarity of the adolescents representation of the parent voice and
the extent to which this inXuence has been appropriated and reconstructed in
his or her own thought. Possible indicators of parent voice include literal evidence of parents speech within the adolescents thought (e.g., My dad
says . . .), statements corroborating or contradicting parents views (My parents are on the wrong track when . . .), and emotional or aVective overtones

170

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

TABLE 7.1
Levels of Parent Voice
1. Parent voice is absent or is summarily dismissed by the child.
2. Parent voice is only minimally present and/or may be passively complied with or questioned by the child.
3. Parent voice is clearly present, but it is recited or parroted rather than being truly
internalized by the child.
4. Parent voice is clear and accepted by the child, but it is not convincingly owned or
internally persuasive to the child.
5. Parent voice is clear, authored in the childs own terms, and respected by the child, though
he/she may diVer from it.

that imply evidence of responsiveness (I felt lousy because I knew my parents


thought . . .).
For example, at the lowest level, Level 1, the parents voice either cannot be
heard at all in the adolescents storyperhaps because it is not available to
the child, or the child has tuned it out of his or her thoughts or, it is
acknowledged, but summarily dismissed or rejected by the child. In one of
our more striking cases of the absence of parental voice, a 19-year-old adolescent described for us her parents reaction to a frightening episode she had
recently experienced. She explained that she had been pretty well sloshed
one night and narrowly escaped sexual assault after accepting a ride from a
stranger:
What really surprised me was that they [her parents] didnt seem all that
shocked. They were like, Oh, really. I felt like I was all alone when that happened, like I was really upset and I really felt like I didnt have anybody to talk
to. . . . I told my parents and they said, Oh, well, if you want to call the cops,
thats Wne and, if you dont, well, thats Wne too. I was like . . . Are you listening, didnt you hear what I just said? So it was really, really weird.

In our interpretation, this adolescent badly needed and wanted her parents
support, and the absence of it has left her with a sense of betrayal, making her
experience all the more diYcult to overcome.
In contrast, at Level 3the mid-point on our scale the parents voice is
clearly audible in the adolescents narrative, but it is recited by the adolescent as opposed to being truly owned and internalized. Typically, the childs
responsiveness to parental inXuence takes the form of behavioral compliance,
rather than a clear formulation of their beliefs and acceptance of (or at least
respect for) them. For instance, one adolescent told us of a time when his par-

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

171

ents taught him the importance of being hard-working. However, despite


the clarity of their voice in his thoughts, it is doubtful that he has truly
appropriated this value as his own. He explained:
There was a time in French where I was going into the Wnal exam . . . I had 50
right on the nose. I wasnt really keen on French . . . but I buckled down . . .
and I just like studied super hard . . . because I didnt want to fail . . . cause my
French teacher, she called my house and she told my parents . . . [and] they
talked to me about it and they said if I dont pass then Im gonna have to pay
for summer school. So thats what really made me buckle down and get going.
. . . To tell you the truth, Ive never done that much work on one subject. . . .
I just knew everything oV by heart. I couldnt tell you now, though. Thats a
diVerent story.

Finally, at Level 5, the highest level on our scale, there is clear evidence that
the parental voice is not only audible in the adolescents story, but it has also
been appropriated and authorized or reconstructed by the adolescent in his
or her own terms, in keeping with Bakhtins (1981) notion of internally persuasive dialogue. One of the stories that conveys this most clearly (and that
we enjoy most) comes from a 14-year-old adolescent who told about his earlier eVorts to become accepted by a peer group, indicating he had since come
to value his independence through the guidance of his parents:
Ok, there was a big group of people who were like in my class, and they
called themselves the good people, like they were all supposed to be cool and
everything. And I wasnt in that group and I wanted to be, so I did all sorts
of like little things for them. I like practically became their slave. And this
came to my parents notice, and they told me not to bother with those people, to like start my own group and stuV like that. At Wrst I didnt listen,
because I thought they didnt know what they were talking about. But after a
while I began to see that these guys were just using me, and from then on Ive
never cared what other people think about me I just do what I think is
right. . . . My parents told me I should think for myself; I shouldnt follow
what other people do, and kiss these people on their butts because I want to
join the group. . . . I should do what I think is good, no matter what anyone
else thinks.

In our view, this adolescent illustrates a strong example of the constructive


appropriation of his parents beliefs and values. The parents injunctions
about independence of thought are not just echoed by this adolescent, but
also appear to have been digested and appropriated for the child himself in
graphic adolescent (kiss their butts) terminology.

172

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

EMPIRICAL RESEARCH ON PARENT VOICE

Over the course of the past several years, we have been engaged in research on
the topic of parent voice. Our work has now involved several studies, most
particularly a longitudinal study of adolescent value socialization with a sample of 40 Canadian families, including the mother, father, and adolescent
child (Pratt, Arnold, Pratt, & Diessner, 1999). The families are all intact, primarily Caucasian, working- to middle-class, and they represent a range of
educational backgrounds and religious ideologies. We have now visited with
family members in their homes on three occasions: initially, when the adolescents were age 1216 (mean age of 14), again at age 1418 (mean age 16),
and most recently when they were 1822 years of age (mean age 20).
On each occasion, we have asked family members to tell us stories about
various value lessons within the context of their daily life and to complete
standard questionnaire and interview measures, including indices of parentchild relations and adolescent psychosocial development. Our narrative measures have comprised a range of elicitations across a variety of contexts. One
set of stories, for example, has been elicited by asking adolescents (and parents, as well) to tell us about times when their parents have tried to teach
them important, self-identiWed values, such as honesty and kindness
(e.g., Pratt & Arnold, 1995; Pratt, Arnold, & Hilbers, 1998; Pratt, Norris,
van de Hoef, & Arnold, 2001). In other work, we have asked adolescents
(and young adults) to describe a time when their parents helped with their
decision making by oVering advice about an important personal issue (e.g.,
Mackey et al., 2001). Conversely, on another occasion we have asked adolescents to tell us about times when they experienced problems or disagreements
with their parents. In several studies we have asked participants to relate stories about a critical incident in their lives, an event or experience that has
had a strong impact or inXuence on their development (e.g., Pratt, Arnold, &
Mackey, 2001). And, Wnally, in our most recent work, we have also asked our
participantsnow young adultsto tell us stories about times when they
have felt particularly good or proud of themselves.
In all instances, our analyses of parent voice in the adolescents narratives
have provided support for the validity of the voice construct as an indicator
of adolescent responsiveness to parent inXuence. Most signiWcantly, we have
been struck by the extent to which parental views or voices could be
heard within the adolescents stories, sometimes as guiding frameworks, and
sometimes sounding like foils for the adolescents own, emerging voices.
Despite diVerences among story contexts, we have found that the parental

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

173

perspective was typically available to our participants and readily elicited by


simple probing (e.g., What did your parents think? Mackey et al., 2001), a
Wnding that is consistent with the idea that voices of others are often anticipated in thinking, and function as sounding boards in consideration of personal decisions (Day & Tappan, 1996). As one might expect, the adolescents
narratives reXect the commonalities, as well as speciWc diVerences, in the ways
that parent voices are represented in the thinking of adolescents. Nevertheless, we have consistently found the Wve levels of parent voice (as described
previously) to be reasonably discriminable across varied elicitation contexts,
and we have achieved generally high standards of inter-rater reliability in our
analyses of them (correlations between independent raters typically in the
.80s, e.g., Mackey et al., 2001). It is also noteworthy that parent voice generally has been independent of standard family demographic measures, including family size, parent age, education, and religiosity, throughout our
analyses, leading us to believe it is a reasonable reXection of the unique particularities of individual family life and process.
Moreover, we have observed a number of interesting patterns and themes
that help to illuminate various aspects of the value socialization process in our
analyses of this voice construct. For example, we have found parent voice
scores to be moderately positively correlated across the narrative elicitation
contexts described above (i.e., average intercorrelations in the .30s and .40s).
This suggests that adolescents responsiveness to parental inXuence is partly
story-speciWc, as might be expected, but also somewhat generalized across
stories, perhaps a reXection of broader family styles such as those described
by Darling and Steinberg (1993). These consistent, moderate positive correlations suggest the appropriateness of constructing an overall summary
index of voice scores at each age, which is the measure generally discussed
hereafter.
Analyses of these summary parent voice scores over time (i.e., at ages 14,
16, and 20) imply varying degrees of consistency in our participants responsiveness to parental inXuence as they mature. Perhaps not surprisingly, the
greatest stability was observed between parent voice scores at mid-adolescence
and early adulthood, that is, at ages 16 and 20 (r = .65); a moderate relation
existed between scores at early and mid-adolescence, or ages 14 and 16 (r =
.42); and a relatively weak association was observed between voice scores at
the extremes of our developmental time frame, from ages 14 to 20 (r = .16).
This variation in responsiveness to parental inXuence across the adolescent
years is much in keeping with the parenting literature that highlights the
vicissitudes of parent-adolescent relations over time (e.g., Grotevant, 1998;
Smetana, 1997; Steinberg, 1990).

174

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

PARENT VOICE AND PARENT-CHILD RELATIONS

As discussed earlier, in our derivation of the parent voice construct it has been
our assumption that adolescents who represent parental beliefs and values
at more sophisticated levels of appropriation will be reXective of families
who enjoy positive parent-child relations and a family climate conducive to
healthy development. In our more recent work, therefore, we have examined
the legitimacy of this assumption. Accordingly, our analyses have included a
range of more established indices of parenting styles and of family climate, as
reported by the adolescents themselves. These have included their perceptions of family authoritativeness, cohesion, and autonomy encouragement,
which we assessed concurrently with parent voice in mid-adolescence (i.e.,
age 16). In early adulthood (i.e., age 20), we obtained adolescents assessment
of parent-child attachment, as well as reassessing their perceptions of parent
authoritativeness.
Adolescents perceptions of family authoritativeness were assessed on a
measure adapted from Dornbusch, Ritter, Leiderman, Roberts, and Fraleigh
(1987), and also included a scale of parent discussion and inXuence ratings
across four topics: schools, peers, family issues, and activities/hobbies. In the
latter case, each topic was rated on 5-point Likert-type scales for frequency of
discussion and for level of parent inXuence (see Pratt, Danso, Arnold, Norris,
& Filyer, 2001, for further description).
Adolescents perceptions of parental autonomy encouragement were assessed by asking them to describe problems they had experienced with each
of their parents, to explain both their own and their parents views regarding these issues, and their perception of how they had been (or were being)
resolved. On the basis of a reading of these responses, autonomy encouragement was rated on a 3-point scale, ranging from 1 (parent actively interferes
with the childs autonomy), through 2 (mixed pattern of interference/
encouragement or no autonomy issues discussed), to 3 (parent actively supports childs autonomy and/or decision-making). Scores were summed
across the two problems to obtain an overall score (see Pratt, Danso, et
al., 2001).
In addition, the mid-adolescents perceptions of family cohesion and emotional closeness were assessed using the index of General Family Functioning
(Morris, 1990), a standard 15-item scale. Finally, when our participants were
in early adulthood (i.e., mean age 20) we also assessed their perceptions of
parent attachment (for both mother and father), using the Index of Parent
and Peer Attachment scale (Greenberg, Siegel, & Leitch, 1983). This is a

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

175

widely used standard questionnaire index of attachment in adolescence and


young adulthood.
Results of these analyses have conWrmed that parent voice, scored independently from adolescents narratives, is generally reXective of the quality of
family life, at least as perceived by the adolescents themselves on these various
standard measures. For example, we have found that families in which the
adolescents were more responsive to the parent voice in mid-adolescence
(i.e., age 16) were also more likely to be seen by the adolescents as authoritative in their parenting style (r = .60), to experience a greater degree of family
cohesion (r = .57), and to be more encouraging of the adolescents autonomy
(r = .56 for mother; r = .34 for father).
Moreover, parent voice in mid-adolescence appears to be predictive of
longer lasting positive parent-child relations as well. Our participants perceptions of parent authoritativeness at age 20, for example, continued to be
strongly related to their earlier representation of parent voice at age 16, this
time when assessed for each parent individually (r = .63 for mother; r = .67
for father). Similarly, their perceptions of parent attachment in early adulthood were related to parent voice in mid-adolescence (r = .56 for mother;
r = .37 for father). The consistency of this pattern of associations with more
generalized or context-free assessments of family life supports the validity of
our parent voice construct and its usefulness in enhancing our understanding
of some of the ways that value socialization may occur within the family (see
Mackey et al., 2001; Pratt, Arnold, & Mackey, 2001).

PARENT VOICE AND ADOLESCENT


PSYCHOSOCIAL DEVELOPMENT OVER TIME

On the assumption that parental inXuence typically has a lasting eVect on


childrens adaptation, in our most recent work we have examined relations
between adolescents responsiveness to parent voice and their longer term psychosocial development. Of particular interest to us have been links between
representations of parent voice in the formative years of mid-adolescence and
standard indicators of adolescent adjustment and adaptation, identity development, and social responsibility in early adulthood (Arnold & Hicks, 2001;
Pratt, Arnold, & Mackey, 2001).
In our latest session of family interviews, therefore, conducted when the
adolescents were age 1822 (mean age 20), we collected data on a series of
established indices of adjustment and adaptation (in addition to continued
use of our narrative measures described previously). These included standard

176

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

measures of self-esteem (Rosenberg Self-Esteem Scale, 1979), loneliness


(UCLA Loneliness Scale, Russel, Peplau, & Cutrona, 1980), depression
(CES-D Scale; RadloV, 1977), and dispositional optimism (Life Orientation
Test; Scheier & Carver, 1985). In addition, as a measure of identity development in early adulthood, we used a questionnaire assessment of identity
status, the Objective Measure of Ego Identity Status (Adams, Bennion, &
Huh, 1989). This is a 24-item measure with four subscales of six items each,
each measuring levels of one of the four statuses of Marcia (1980): identity
achievement, moratorium, foreclosure, and diVusion.
As noted previously, a great deal of evidence has indicated that positive
parent-child relations in adolescence predict better subsequent adjustment
(e.g., Steinberg et al., 1994). In keeping with our own previous research on
concurrent relations between parent voice and adolescent adjustment (Pratt,
Arnold, & Mackey, 2001), we made the longitudinal prediction that midadolescents who expressed more positive relations with their parents on our
narrative voice measurethat is, those who represented and had appropriated parental views on a more sophisticated level would also display
stronger evidence of more mature psychosocial characteristics in later years
than adolescents who were less responsive to parental inXuence. Indeed, these
expectations were consistently supported. Correlations across time showed
robust relations between parent voice from stories in mid-adolescence (at age
16) and all our examined indicators of psychosocial development in early
adulthood (at age 20). On average, mid-adolescents who represented the parent voice at a more sophisticated level also had higher self-esteem (r = .48)
and sense of optimism (r = .40) and reported fewer feelings of loneliness
(r = -.42) and depression (r = -.38) as they approached adulthood 4 years
later. Moreover, regression analyses indicated that higher early parent voice
scores predicted increments, or growth, in positive adjustment and adaptation over the 4-year span from ages 16 to 20 for self-esteem and loneliness,
the two measures available at both these points in our participants development (Arnold & Hicks, 2001). That is, high scorers on parent voice at 16
showed gains from age 16 to 20 in self-esteem, and declines in loneliness over
this time period, whereas low scorers at age 16 did not. In addition, midadolescents who were more responsive to parental inXuence in their stories
were also less likely to show the immature forms of identity achievement
status in early adulthood (sum of foreclosure and diVusion scores at age 20,
r = -.36, with parent voice at 16). Clearly, then, adolescents responsiveness
to parents perspectives in their stories at mid-adolescence was generally predictive of more positive trajectories of adaptation in the period of what Arnett
(2000) has called emerging adulthood. Certainly prediction is not causa-

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

177

tion in an observational study such as the present one. Even though these are
only correlational patterns over time, however, they do begin to speak to the
potential power of a narrative methodology in the study of family life and
adaptation during this period of adolescent development (e.g., Cowan, 1999).
The potential implications of this pattern of relations between adolescents
responsiveness to parental inXuence and longer-term psychosocial adjustment were reXected in a number of family stories told by our research participants. For example, having identiWed with the personal value independent, Emily recounted the following story of a signiWcant turning point in her
early adolescence, when she struggled to overcome a debilitating shyness and
became a whole new person with the support and encouragement of her
mother:
When I moved to Grade 8, like, that was one of the most important times in
my life so far. I was very shy . . . and I had people tease me because I was so shy.
I was feeling really, really bad about myself. I felt very depressed and there were
times when I just wanted to stay home, and I spent whole days not talking to
anybody. . . . When I look back, its like Im a whole new person. I have a lot of
friends. Um, I actually laugh. I didnt laugh at all beforethats how big a
change its been . . . like it was a whole new beginning. I thought about what I
wanted to be like, and it was just like a dream come true sort of thing, because
I was worried that the rest of my life would probably be a write-oV because I
wouldnt be happy. Its very hard to change. . . . In Grade 7 I realized that I was
too far along to be able to change. . . . [But] I wanted to make myself, make it
better. It took a while to Wgure out what it was, except my mom, my mom and
I talked it through, and we just Wgured out together what it was gonna be, what
I wanted it to be. . . . I wasnt quite sure, um, what I wanted to be like, and how
to go about doing that. . . . She agreed with changing completely. . . . We both
talked together and decided what I wanted to be like. . . . I got involved in a lot
more things, and I got diVerent sorts of clothes than I was wearing before, and
I made a big eVort to talk to people a lot more, and so I made a lot of friends.
I made a few really good friends which I still have. . . . [It was] to do with what
I believe and what I wanted people to think of me, and how, how I wanted to
be for the rest of my life, that sort of thing.

Of course, not all the narratives of our participants lives with parents have
been as positive. JeV, for instance, recounted quite discouraging stories of
his strained relationships with both of his parents, as he struggled in midadolescence with issues of identity and independence. Having previously told
us of communication problems with his mother frequent little tiVs that
left him frustrated inside and wondering whats going through her head
here, he narrates a problem situation he experienced with his father.

178

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

Okay, Im gonna tell you about my dad. This is how it goes. . . . My father
would come in and he would of course take my mothers side, in other words,
team up on me. He wouldnt really listen to all the facts before he jumped in.
You know what I mean? We went on a trip . . . and we were driving home, and
I wanted to sit in the front. . . . Like, I drove about 12 hours or so, and then
from there I sat in the back. We slept at a hotel, and then the next day my dad
drove, and then the next day my mother drove, and then the next day my dad
drove, and they were both sitting in the front seat. And we were getting on [a
major highway] when we had that big, bad winter storm kind of deal, and I
just wanted to sit in the front, because I hadnt been, you know. . . . So, I asked
my dad if I could sit in the front, and he said, Wne. So my mom had gone to
get coVee, and when she came back . . . shes like, Why are you sitting in the
front? You know I have a bad back. And I said, Well, everythings comfortable. If you want to lie down, weve got blankets and stuV like that. Ive been
back there for two days, and Id just like to sit up at the front for a while. And
then she started arguing, Blah, blah, blah. One thing led to another, and she
asked my dad, and she goes, Do I have to put up with this? And then my dad
says, No. So I go in the back.

These quarrels were predictive of longer term problems. JeV s outcomes at


age 21 were in fact very poor, with signiWcant psychosocial problems of adjustment and substance abuse, though he and his parents both continued to
make eVorts towards improving their troubled relationship.
In the most recent phase of our longitudinal study, we have also been interested in examining relations between our participants responsiveness to
parental beliefs and values in mid-adolescence and sociomoral dimensions of
their longer term development. Previous research in moral development has
shown that children raised in more authoritative family environments, where
they are encouraged to think autonomously, are more advanced in their
moral reasoning and behavior than those raised in more restrictive family
contexts (e.g., Boyes & Allen, 1993; Hart, Atkins, & Ford, 1999; Pratt,
Arnold, et al., 1999; Walker & Henning, 1999; Walker, Henning, & Krettenaur, 2000). If our parent voice construct is a valid indicator of parent-child
relations, as our earlier Wndings suggest, we anticipated that adolescents who
previously responded more positively to parental inXuence would also be
more likely to assume active social responsibility in early adulthood.
To investigate this, our participants social commitment at age 20 was
assessed using the Youth Involvement Inventory (Pratt, Hunsberger, Pancer,
& Alisat, 2003). This is a recently developed, 30-item self-report measure
of the frequency of involvement in several types of voluntary activity, including helping activities such as visiting those in hospitals, political activities

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

179

such as collecting signatures on a petition, community activities such as


working in a neighborhood organization, and responding activities such as
giving money to a cause. All items were reported on a 0 (you never did this)
to 4 (you did this a lot) scale and summed to provide an overall score.
Adolescents who were more responsive to parent inXuence at age 16 also
displayed a signiWcantly greater sense of social responsibility in early adulthood at age 20, reporting being more socially involved through volunteer
work in their communities (r = .35). Pancer and Pratt (1999) have suggested
that parents frequently play a large role in supporting the involvement of
youth in community prosocial activity. Indeed, this suggestion that the family
context has implications for the adolescents relationships in the larger social
world is illustrated by the stories that several of our participants told. For example, describing an occasion when her parents taught her the importance of
being kind and caring to others, Karen shared with us the following story of
her experience mentoring an adolescent far less fortunate than herself:
There was this lady that I baby-sat for, and she had a daughter that was maybe
about two years younger than me. . . . Her mom was an alcoholic and had four
children and, like, that family was a mess. Her mom wasnt married . . . and she
would bring men home and have sex with them while I baby-sat. So it was
pretty brutal. But, like, I felt sorry for the children. And the one girl just didnt
know how to act. Do you know what I mean? She just didnt know how to act
. . . she didnt have any social skills basically. And so she was very annoying, but
she also needed friends. She needed someone that was like a big sister to say,
you know, Okay, thats not the way you act and this is the way you act, and
just, you know, start teaching her right from wrong cause her mother had not.
. . . And so, like, I was talking to my parents about her, and stuV like that, and
my parents were going to invite her to church . . . and Im like, Invite her to
church? Shes so annoying. But eventually they convinced me that it was the
right thing to do, and I did. I dont know that it did that huge of a diVerence,
but I know that she now knows that theres someone that cares about her. . . .
So I guess [my parents] taught me just to be kind and caring and just to listen
to her problems, cause she talked to me a lot about her problems. . . . I feel
good about it. Im glad that my parents convinced me to do that. . . . I think a
lot of the time [theres] a comfort zone, you know, Im comfortable with my
friends, Im comfortable doing what Im doing, and I dont want to have to step
out of it. Its like were living in a bubble . . . so you just dont want to step out.
But, like, my parents were basically pushing me to step out, and once I stepped
out I felt good about it. . . . And now she at least knows theres someone else
that cares about her, and stuV like that. . . She started noticing that I accepted
her no matter what, and she started acting like herself more. It taught me a big
lesson, deWnitely.

180

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

Our most compelling example of parental inXuence on adolescents sense


of social responsibility is presented by Sandra, who explained to us how her
parents had taught her the importance of being fair and just.
I know Ive been taught to be fair and just all my life. . . . But I remember one
time when my parents came home with this movie, and it was called Mahatma
Ghandi. . . . I was quite young, like under 10, and I was like, Whats that? . . .
No, I dont want to see this. This isnt something Im interested in. . . . This
was, you know, a movie that was quite, whatever, sophisticated . . . but they
wanted me to watch it with them, and I was really aVected by it, by the racism
in India, I believe it was, yeah, in India. And that really taught me sort of the
. . . equality sort of lesson . . . not just the racism, basically human being, dignity, that sort of justice, I guess. . . . Im glad they did teach it to me . . . because
its a really important lesson to learn. . . . Justice is a thing you encounter every
single day of your life, whether you know it or not.

Indeed, Sandra showed she has learned this parental lesson well in a later
narrative she recounted of a critical incident in her life, an experience that
epitomizes McAdamss (1990) notion of a nuclear episode in an adolescents
emerging life story:
You know in school theres always the cool group and then like the not so cool,
well, the losers or whatever, the rejects. . . . I was always part of the little cool
crowd. And then all of a sudden . . . there came this girl named S into my
class. And she was Indian . . . and she was made fun of so much and she was
put down about everything. . . . I believe it was a real racial issue. . . . I felt so
badly for her because she did not stand up for her rights at all . . . she would
smile or brush it oV as if everything was okay. But I knew that it wasnt okay.
. . . She was such a nice person, so kind and sweet and gentle, and there was
nothing wrong with her, she was just so frail . . . I looked at the situation and I
said, Look, if she couldnt stand up for herself, she needs someone else to stand
up for her, because what is happening here is not right, and this isnt good. So
I started becoming her friend, and all the members of the cool group, they
totally ditched me, and they just turned their backs on me and they became so
cool and inhumane, you wouldnt believe. . . . It really hurt a lot, because all I
wanted was for everyone to be friends. . . . I remember one speciWc time . . . I
was just shocked . . . I was like, Okay, this has gone way too far . . . and something inside of me just burned and stinged (sic) and I just couldnt control it.
. . . [T]his has been going on for three years now, and you know puberty just
kicking in, and I just stood up and I just like burst out and I just started yelling.
. . . I dont even remember what I said, but I remember after that I just felt so
good, and all the cool girls . . . just stood around us in a circle, and it was totally
silent. It was such a moment . . . really weird. It was a day Ill never forget. . . .
Why are people so cruel? I mean, we were only little girls.

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

181

CONCLUSIONS

In this chapter, we have presented an overview of our narrative approach to


the study of adolescent value socialization within the family. In our adoption
of this framework, we have attempted to complement more traditional
approaches to this important aspect of family life through an analysis of adolescents responsiveness to parental inXuence, as represented in their stories of
important value learning experiences. Our narrative assessment of parent
voice has provided a fruitful means of understanding family dynamics and
their implications for adolescent psychosocial development. In particular, the
parent voice construct has proved to be a sensitive and reasonably stable index
of family climate. As illustrated in our case material, the adolescents stories
reveal compelling instances where parent-child relations are mutually harmonious and fulWlling and those where they are strained, as adolescents and their
parents redeWne their roles during these critical years. More importantly, adolescents representations of their parents voices have also foreshadowed their
patterns of psychosocial development in later years. We have found that midadolescents who are more responsive to their parents inXuence are also more
likely to show signs of healthy adaptation, displaying stronger self-esteem,
optimism, and identity achievement and fewer feelings of loneliness and
depression in early adulthood, and to experience more growth in these
respects over this time. In addition, such adolescents also are more likely to
display evidence of the longer term impact of parental inXuence outside the
family in their commitment to social service and community action.
Our research, therefore, provides a convincing example of some of the
ways narrative techniques can provide insight into adolescent experience and
development within and beyond the family context. The use of narrative has
enabled us to systematically assess the diverse ways adolescents interpret their
family beliefs and values and to identify meaningful distinctions in their
appropriation, or rejection, of them as their own. Inevitably, positive parentchild relations provide a source of strength and support to adolescents coping
with the vicissitudes of value socialization. In these instances, adolescents
representations of their parents voices serve as a protective factor as they face
the challenging complexities of extra-family inXuences. Such was the case, for
example, of the adolescent we cited earlier who had learned to resist the negative inXuence of his peers (or not to kiss these people on their butts) and,
rather, to value his own emerging sense of independence through the supportive guidance of his parents. Our focus on a range of standard measures of
adolescent adaptation and adjustment has provided potential evidence of

182

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

how variations in the quality of such family narratives can contribute to the
prediction of adolescent outcomes in development. This is an important
aspect of criterion validity that narrative family research is just beginning to
address (e.g., Cowan, 1999; Fiese et al., 1999). We believe our results point
to ways that such narrative analyses can be integrated with more traditional
quantitative research in the study of child and family development (Pratt,
Arnold, & Mackey, 2001).
If these points are indeed reasonable ones, then the clinical implications of
this work are worth pursuing as well. People in their descriptions of family life
and experiences in therapeutic contexts inevitably provide a wealth of narratives such as the ones we have describedin fact, this is just what people
always do in all kinds of talk about their personal lives (Polkinghorne, 1996).
Clinicians also inevitably listen with an ear attuned to the voices of parents
in the stories of their patients, as they seek to understand process and relationships in the individuals past and current development. Research such as
this may provide some insights into how best to frame the meaning of diVerences across patterns of varied parent-adolescent relationships. More ambitiously, based on data such as ours, one might argue that helping individuals
and families to reframe problematic stories about their family lives could
indeed prove therapeutic. Such ideas surely deserve careful study using tools
like the present ones to test such claims (Cowan, 1999).
Finally, our application of a narrative framework to the study of adolescent
value socialization has been consistent with McAdams (1990, 2001) construal of narrative as a medium for personal identity development. By all
accounts, our participants genuinely engaged in the experience of storytelling, often leaving us with the impression that the opportunity itself was
personally fulWlling, and perhaps even educational, for them as well. Over the
course of their adolescent years, they willingly and enthusiastically shared
their perspectives and experiences with us, and we have heard the emergence
of their own voices while they grappled with the challenges of constructing a
personal belief system. Thus, through their narrative accounts of personal
struggle and triumph, they have presented colorful portraits of adolescent
lives in the making, as they prepare to embark on their larger life stories.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The research reported in this chapter was supported by grants from the Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada to authors Pratt and
Arnold, and Joan Norris.

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

183

REFERENCES
Adams, G. R., Bennion, L., & Huh, K. (1989). Objective measure of ego identity status: A reference manual. Unpublished manual, University of Guelph, Guelph, Ontario.
Allen, J., & Land, P. (1999). Attachment in adolescence. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.),
Handbook of attachment: Theory, research, and clinical applications (pp. 319335). New
York: Guilford.
Arnett, J. J. (2000). Emerging adulthood: A theory of development from the late teens through
the twenties. American Psychologist, 55, 469480.
Arnold, M. L., & Hicks, C. (2001, April). A narrative approach to studying parent-adolescent
relations: Parental inXuence and adolescent adjustment over time. Poster presented at the biennial meeting of the Society for Research in Child Development, Minneapolis.
Bakhtin, M. (1981). The dialogic imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Baumrind, D. (1991). EVective parenting of adolescents. In P. Cowan & E. M. Hetherington
(Eds.), The eVects of transitions on families (pp. 111163). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates.
Boyes, M., & Allen, S. (1993). Styles of parent-child interaction and moral reasoning in adolescence. Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 39, 551570.
Bruner, J. (1986). Actual minds, possible worlds. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Claes, M. (1998). Adolescents closeness with parents, siblings, and friends in three countries:
Canada, Belgium, and Italy. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 27, 165184.
Colby, A., & Damon, W. (1992). Some do care: Contemporary lives of moral commitment. New
York: Free Press.
Coles, R. (1989). The moral life of children. Boston: The Atlantic Monthly Press.
Collins, W. A., Gleason, T., & Sesma, A. (1997). Internalization, autonomy, and relationships:
Development during adolescence. In J. E. Grusec & L. Kuczynski (Eds.), Parenting and
childrens internalization of values (pp. 7899). New York: John Wiley & Sons.
Cowan, P. A. (1999). What we talk about when we talk about families. In B. H. Fiese,
A. SameroV, H. Grotevant, F. Wamboldt, S. Dickstein, & D. Fravel, The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of
the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (2, Serial No. 257), 163176.
Darling, N., & Steinberg, L. (1993). Parenting style as context: An integrative model. Psychological Bulletin, 113, 487496.
Day, J., & Tappan, M. (1996). The narrative approach to moral development: From the epistemic subject to dialogical selves. Human Development, 39, 6782.
Dornbusch, S., Ritter, P., Leiderman, P., Roberts, D., & Fraleigh, M. (1987). The relation of
parenting style to adolescent school performance. Child Development, 58, 12441257.
Duncan, R., & Pratt, M. (1997). Microgenetic change in preschoolers private speech: EVects
of task diYculty, task novelty, and task repetition. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 20, 367383.
Ely, R., & McCabe, A. (1993). Remembered voices. Journal of Child Language, 20, 671696.
Erikson, E. (1963). Childhood and society. New York: Norton.
Erikson, E. (1968). Identity, youth and crisis. New York: Norton.
Fiese, B. H., SameroV, A., Grotevant, H., Wamboldt, F., Dickstein, S., & Fravel, D. (1999).
The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship
beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (2, Serial No. 257]).

184

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

Fuligni, A. J., & Pedersen, S. (2002). Family obligation and the transition to young adulthood.
Developmental Psychology, 38, 856868.
Greenberg, M. T., Siegel, J. M., & Leitch, C. J. (1983). The nature and importance of attachment relationships to parents and peers during adolescence. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 12, 373386.
Grotevant, H. D. (1998). Adolescent development in family contexts. In W. Damon (Series
Ed.) & N. Eisenberg (Vol. Ed.), Handbook of child psychology: Vol. 3. Social, emotional, and
personality development (5th ed., pp. 10971150). New York: Wiley.
Grotevant, H. D., & Cooper, C. R. (1998). Individuality and connectedness in adolescent
development: Review and prospects for research on identity, relationships, and context. In
E. Skoe & A. von der Lippe (Eds.), Personality development in adolescence: A cross national
and life span perspective (pp. 337). London: Routledge.
Grusec, J. E., & Kuczynski, L. (Eds.). (1997). Parenting and childrens internalization of values
(pp. 7899). New York: John Wiley & Sons.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hart, D., Atkins, R., & Ford, D. (1999). Family inXuences on the formation of moral identity
in adolescence: Longitudinal analyses. Journal of Moral Education, 28, 375386.
Hauser, S. T., Powers, S., & Noam, G. (1991). Adolescents and their families: Paths of ego development. New York: Free Press.
Hermans, H. J. M. (1996). Voicing the self: From information processing to dialogical interchange. Psychological Bulletin, 119, 3150.
Hill, J., & Holmbeck, G. (1986). Attachment and autonomy during adolescence. Annals of
Child Development, 3, 145189.
Holmbeck, G. N., PaikoV, R. L., & Brooks-Gunn, J. (1995). Parenting adolescents. In M. H.
Bornstein (Ed.), Handbook of parenting: Vol. 1. Children and parenting (pp. 91118). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Kagan, J., & Lamb, S. (Eds.). (1987). The emergence of morality in young children. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Kohlberg, L. (1984). Essays on moral development: Vol. II. The psychology of moral development:
The nature and validity of moral stages. San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row.
Maccoby, E. E. (1992). The role of parents in the socialization of children: An historical
overview. Developmental Psychology, 28, 10061017.
Maccoby, E., & Martin, J. (1983). Socialization in the context of the family. In P. H. Mussen
(Series Ed.) & E. M. Hetherington (Vol. Ed.), Handbook of child psychology: Vol. 4. Socialization, personality and social development (4th ed., pp. 1101). New York: Wiley.
Mackey, K., Arnold, M. L., & Pratt, M. W. (2001). Adolescents stories of decision making in
more and less authoritative families: Representing the voices of parents in narrative. Journal
of Adolescent Research, 16, 243268.
Marcia, J. E. (1980). Identity in adolescence. In J. Adelson (Ed.), Handbook of adolescent psychology (pp. 159187). New York: Wiley.
McAdams, D. P. (1990). Unity and purpose in human lives: The emergence of identity as a life
story. In I. A. Rabin, R. A. Zucker, R. A. Emmons, & S. Frank (Eds.), Studying persons and
lives (pp. 148200). New York: Springer.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5, 100
122.
Morris, T. M. (1990). Culturally sensitive family assessment: An evaluation of the Family

7.

A D O L E S C E N TS R E P R E S E N TAT I O N S O F PA R E N TS VO I C E S

185

Assessment Device used with Hawaiian-American and Japanese-American families. Family


Process, 29, 105116.
OVer, D., & Schonert-Reichl, K. A. (1992). Debunking the myths of adolescence: Findings
from recent research. Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 31,
10031014.
Pancer, S. M., & Pratt, M. W. (1999). Social and family determinants of community service
involvement in Canadian youth. In M. Yates & J. Youniss (Eds.), Community service and
civic engagement in youth: International perspectives (pp. 3255). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.
Penuel, W. R., & Wertsch, J. V. (1995). Vygoysky and identity formation: A sociocultural
approach. Educational Psychologist, 30, 8392.
Piaget, J. (1965). The moral judgment of the child. New York: Free Press. (Original work published 1932)
Polkinghorne, D. E. (1996). Narrative knowing and the study of lives. In J. Birren, G. Kenyon,
J. E. Ruth, J. Schroots, & T. Svensson (Eds.), Aging and biography: Explorations in adult
development (pp. 7799). New York: Springer.
Pratt, M. W., & Arnold, M. L. (1995). Narrative approaches to moral socialization across the
lifespan. Moral Education Forum, 20, 1322.
Pratt, M. W., Arnold, M. L., & Hilbers, S. M. (1998). A narrative approach to the study of
moral orientation in the family: Tales of kindness and care. In E. Skoe & A. von der Lippe
(Eds.), Personality development in adolescence: A cross national and life span perspective (pp.
6179). London: Routledge.
Pratt, M. W., Arnold, M. L., & Mackey, K. (2001). Adolescent representations of the parent
voice in stories of personal turning points. In D. P. McAdams, R. Josselson, & A. Lieblich
(Eds.), Turns in the road: Narrative studies of lives in transition (pp. 227251). Washington,
DC: American Psychological Association.
Pratt, M. W., Arnold, M. L., Pratt, A. T., & Diessner, R. (1999). Predicting adolescent moral
reasoning from family climate: A longitudinal study. Journal of Early Adolescence, 19, 148
175.
Pratt, M. W., Danso, H., Arnold, M. L., Norris, J., & Filyer, R. (2001). Adult generativity and
the socialization of adolescents: Relations to mothers and fathers parenting beliefs, styles
and practices. Journal of Personality, 69, 89120.
Pratt, M. W., Hunsberger, B., Pancer, S. M., & Alisat, S. (2003). A longitudinal analysis of
personal value socialization: Correlates of a moral self-ideal in adolescence. Social Development, 12, 563585.
Pratt, M. W., & Norris, J. (1999). Moral development in maturity: Lifespan perspectives on
the processes of successful aging. In T. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition
and aging (pp. 291317). New York: Academic Press.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J. E., van de Hoef, S., & Arnold, M. L. (2001). Stories of hope: Parental
optimism in narratives about adolescent children. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 18, 603623.
RadloV, L. S. (1977). The CES-D Scale: A self-report depression scale for research in the general population. Applied Psychological Measurement, 1, 385401.
RogoV, B. (1990). Apprenticeship in thinking: Cognitive development in social context. New
York: Oxford University Press.
Rosenberg, M. (1979). Conceiving the self. New York: Basic Books.
Russel, D., Peplau, L. A., & Cutrona, C. (1980). The revised UCLA Loneliness Scale: Con-

186

A R N O L D , P R AT T, H I C K S

current and discriminant validity evidence. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 39,
472480.
Sarbin, T. (1986). The narrative as root metaphor for psychology. In T. Sarbin (Ed.), Narrative
psychology: The storied nature of human conduct (pp. 321). New York: Praeger.
Scheier, M. M., & Carver, C. S. (1985). Optimism, coping and health: Assessment and implications of generalized outcome expectancies. Health Psychology, 4, 219247.
Silverberg, S. B., & Gondoli, D. M. (1996). Autonomy in adolescence: A contextualized perspective. In G. R. Adams, R. Montemayor, & T. P. Gullotta (Eds.), Psychosocial development
in adolescence (pp. 1261). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Smetana, J. (1995). Context, conXict, and constraint in adolescent-parent authority relationships. In M. Killen & D. Hart (Eds.), Morality in everyday life: Developmental perspectives
(pp. 225255). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Smetana, J. (1997). Parenting and the development of social knowledge reconceptualized: A
social domain analysis. In J. E. Grusec & L. Kuczynski (Eds.), Parenting and childrens internalization of values (pp. 162192). New York: Wiley.
Steinberg, L. (1990). Interdependency in the family: Autonomy, conXict, and harmony in the
parent-adolescent relationship. In S. Feldman & G. Elliot (Eds.), At the threshold: The developing adolescent (pp. 255276). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Steinberg, L. (2001). We know some things: Parent-adolescent relationships in retrospect and
prospect. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 11, 119.
Steinberg, L., Lamborn, S., Darling, N., Mounts, N., & Dornbusch, S. (1994). Over-time
changes in adjustment and competence among adolescents from authoritative, authoritarian, indulgent, and neglectful families. Child Development, 65, 754770.
Steinberg, L., & Silverberg, S. B. (1986). The vicissitudes of autonomy in early adolescence.
Child Development, 57, 841851.
Tappan, M. (1991). Narrative, authorship, and the development of moral authority. New
Directions for Child Development, 54, 525.
Tappan, M. B., & Brown, L. (1989). Stories told and lessons learned: Toward a narrative
approach to moral development. Harvard Educational Review, 59, 182205.
Vitz, P. (1990). The use of stories in moral development: New psychological reasons for an old
educational method. American Psychologist, 45, 709720.
Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Press.
Walker, L. J. (1999). The family context for moral development. Journal of Moral Education,
28, 261264.
Walker, L. J., & Henning, K. H. (1999). Parenting style and the development of moral reasoning. Journal of Moral Education, 28, 359374.
Walker, L. J., Henning, K. H., & Krettenaur, T. (2000). Parent and peer contexts for childrens
moral reasoning development. Child Development, 71, 10331048.
Wertsch, J. V. (1991). Voices of the mind: A sociocultural approach to mediated action. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Wintre, M. G., & YaVe, M. (2000). First-year students adjustment to university life as a function of relationship with parents. Journal of Adolescent Research, 15, 937.
Youniss, J., & Smollar, J. (1985). Adolescent relations with mothers, fathers, and friends. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.

8
When Parents Stories Go to Pot:
Telling Personal Transgressions
to Teenage Kids
Avril Thorne
Kate McLean
Anna Dasbach
University of California, Santa Cruz

Tell me a story about when you were young is a familiar refrain to parents,
and also is beginning to be heard by family narrative researchers. Parents in
many cultures tell family stories in an eVort to guide their childrens conduct
and convey important values (Fiese, Hooker, Kotary, Schwagler, & Rimmer,
1995). Personal stories lie at the heart of opportunity education (Fung,
1999), emerging at moments when the parents own past experience seems to
connect with the concerns of the child. Parents tend to believe that the stories
they tell their children about their past lives can inXuence their childrens
behavior and values, and communities diVer with regard to the kinds of
parental stories that are told and not told to children (Miller, Sandel, Liang,
& Fung, 2001; Miller, Wiley, Fung, & Liang, 1997).
The present study builds on past studies of an important domain of parental storytelling, stories of personal transgressions. Peggy Miller and her colleagues have contributed much of the foundational ethnographic work on
how and why parents tell stories of their own transgressions to their children.
Miller et al. (2001) found that White middle-class American mothers felt
that telling their personal transgressions to their children created closeness by
placing the parent at a more equal level with the child. This self-lowering
parental strategy has also been identiWed in other studies of narrative socialization practices in White middle-class America (e.g., Ochs & SchieVelin,
1984). In contrast to Chinese mothers, who felt that exposing parental misdeeds would grant permission for transgressive behavior, American mothers
emphasized a distinction between the behavior and the person. In narrating
187

188

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

their own transgressions, American mothers espoused the view that bad acts
do not make a bad person, that bad behavior can be redeemed, and that
people are complex, protean, and Xawed (Miller et al., 2001, p. 178).
The present study explored a speciWc kind of parental transgression: smoking marijuana in ones teenage years. Although the dilemma of how to talk to
ones teenagers about ones own experiences with marijuana is very speciWc, it
is also a fairly common predicament within the community that we studied
and in the United States overall. An estimated two thirds of the parents of
todays teenagers experimented with marijuana at some point in their youth
(Johnston, OMalley, & Bachman, 1986). Nevertheless, there appear to have
been no systematic studies of whether and how parents disclose these youthful experiences to their children. Prior research has focused on relatively innocent parental misdeeds as told to young children. Because marijuana use is
illegal and emerges later in adolescence, we turned to the larger family narrative literature to anticipate potential age-developmental changes with regard
to transgressive experiences, and the role of marijuana in the development of
American adolescents. In this chapter, we tell the story of the beliefs and practices that emerged.

AGE-DEVELOPMENTAL CHANGES IN PERFORMING


AND EXPLAINING TRANSGRESSIONS

Adolescents, by virtue of having lived longer than young children and having
broader social networks, are likely to be exposed to a varied array of transgressions on the part their families, their peers and the families of their peers.
Because transgressive acts breech community norms and tend to require narrative justiWcation (Bruner, 1990), adolescents can also be expected to hear a
larger variety of beliefs and values with regard to transgressive behavior.
Teenagers are also cognitively more sophisticated than children, and more interested in comparing one value with another in pursuit of an ideology to live
by (Goodnow, 1992; Habermas & Bluck, 2000; McAdams, 1993). In White,
middle-class America, adolescence is not only an era for exploring alternative
practices and values, but also for developing a more egalitarian relationship
with parents (e.g., Collins, 1997; Grotevant & Cooper, 1985). This greater
mutuality includes more open disclosures on the part of parents than would
occur with younger children, such as revealing the true reason that the children were sent away to live with relatives, or the mothers mastectomy scars
(McLean & Thorne, 2003). However, parents may be less willing to disclose
parts of their past which, if emulated, could put the teenager at risk.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

189

Although children eventually reach an age in which their own transgressions can potentially match those of the parent, parent and teen values about
transgressive conduct may be slower to coincide. Part of the divergence concerns diVerences in time perspective, with adolescents more likely to live in
the present (Burton, Sussman, Hansen, Johnson, & Flay, 1989). Collins and
Repinski (1994) suggested that adolescence is a period in which parents and
children may be especially likely to misunderstand each other because the
adolescent is changing more rapidly than the parent. Disparity between teens
and parents views of the child has been found to be highest in early adolescence; by late adolescence, there is likely to be more convergence between
parents and teens views (Alessandri & Wozniak, 1989).
In considering how and why parents tell transgressive stories to their
teens, it is important to consider that for the parent, adolescence is a bygone
era, whereas for the teen, adulthood is unknown. Parents know the consequences of their own teenage misdeeds, whereas teens and parents can only
guess about the eventual consequences of transgressive conduct on the part
of the teen. To encourage responsibility in their adolescent children, should
parents refrain from disclosing their own transgressions, or if they do,
should they emphasize the negative consequences and forgo the parts of the
story that suggest there was anything positive about the experience? Although the Miller et al. (2001) study understandably focused on relatively
innocent misconduct, the mothers of the preschoolers described themselves
as wary of a too-ardent adherence to the letter of the law, and felt that
there was much to be learned by experimenting; there was a value in
transgressive selves (Miller et al., 2001, p. 181). Some parents may be willing to tolerate at least some of their teenagers illicit misdeeds. Under-age
drinking, for example, may be allowed in the home under parents supervision. But what about behaviors that do not become legal, for which one
does not legally come of age?

MARIJUANA, ADOLESCENT EXPLORATION,


AND RISK TAKING

In a longitudinal study of Northern California residents, Shedler and Block


(1990) found that 18-year-olds who had experimented with drugs, mostly
marijuana, were better adjusted than were adolescents who were frequent
drug users, or who had never experimented with drugs. In explaining their
Wndings, the authors suggested that occasional use of marijuana can be
understood as developmentally appropriate experimentation in the context

190

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

of American adolescent culture; in former generations, alcohol primarily


served that function.
Marijuana use is not illegal in all cultures, and even in the United States
occupies a distinctive niche among illicit transgressions because it is prohibited by the oYcial macro-culture but is visibly tolerated in some communities
within the larger culture. In the latter communities, including the Northern
California county from which we drew our informants, the values of the
oYcial macro-culture reach deeply into the school system and the home. Exdrug addicts visit schools to tell stories about their personal struggles with
drug abuse, and the DARE program teaches children how to identify the
smell of marijuana. Recently the television news showed footage of federal
raids on local medical marijuana growers, juxtaposed with footage of civic
leaders approving the deWant distribution of medical marijuana on the steps
of the county courthouse.
Compared to some illicit misdeeds, marijuana use may seem relatively
minor. Nonetheless, value conXicts about marijuana use appear to be widespread, diversely managed, and rarely exposed to public view. The value conXicts can be expected to be especially intense for parents of teenagers, not
only because marijuana is a prominent vehicle for adolescent exploration but
also because adolescence is the period in which parents may be most likely to
be asked to disclose and justify their own adolescent risk taking to their children. At that point, parents may feel pressed to come clean to their teens
not only about their own use of marijuana, but also about the meaning of such
use in their own lives. Full discussion of personal values with regard to marijuana use, if it occurs at all, may not be appropriate until late adolescence,
when the child can better understand the parents point of view. Stated
another way, the act of smoking marijuana may emerge developmentally earlier than a mature understanding of the values that may protect children from
compromising their future.

HOW TO TALK TO TEENS ABOUT ONES OWN


MARIJUANA USE: THE OFFICIAL CULTURAL LINE

There is an oYcial cultural line about how parents should protect their children from illicit drug use: Talk to your kids about drugs. This advice is dispensed in public service television advertisements and on billboards and
bumper stickers across America. But how, exactly, should parents talk to their
teens about drugs, particularly when the parent has had personal experience
with marijuana? Should the conversation focus on impersonal drug facts and

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

191

on the teens drug experience, or should the parents also disclose their own
personal experience with drugs?
The most accessible source for educating parents about how to talk to their
children about drugs is Drug Free America, a nonproWt organization whose
website draws from guidelines provided by the U.S. Department of Education. The Drug Free America website (http://www.drugfreeamerica.org/
Templates/Help-For-Parents) advises parents to begin to talk early to their
children about drugs, to be a good listener, to give a clear no-use message, and
to model honest behavior that the child can emulate. The advice to parents
who have used drugs in the past is to go slow in the disclosure in an eVort to
determine the childs readiness for an open answer. In 1999, as we were conceiving the present study, we discovered a script on the Drug Free America
website tailored for such occasions:1
The 12-year-old you care for comes home from school and says, pretty matterof-factly, I learned about drugs today. The teacher said that lots of people your
age used to do drugs. Did you?
You: Wow, youre learning about drugs already? What are they teaching
you?
Child: Well, just about drugs and alcohol, and the teacher said a lot of
people your age used drugs when they were young.
You: Well, Im not sure what your teacher meant to say, but I can tell you
what I know about those times. Would you like me to?
Child: Sure.
You: Well, many people my age, who were young adults back then, tried
marijuana. We mostly called it pot. But we didnt know as much about it as
we do now. It was the same with cigarettes. We didnt think smoking was
very harmful either. So do you still want to know if I smoked marijuana?
Think. . . .
Child: Are you just trying not to tell me?
You: No, Im trying to be thoughtful about how I answer you so Ill know
more about what you think about my drug usage.
Child: So you did?
You: Yes, I tried it. A couple of times because friends of mine were doing
it. And then I stopped because I decided it just wasnt a good thing to do.

The above script provided a useful point of departure for our study because
it was so vague; the script seemed to end just at the point that the parent was
1 This script is no longer featured on the website, which now contains more general advice
for parents of children at diVerent ages. The source of the advice is the U.S. Department of
Health and Human Services (1998, pp. 89).

192

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

beginning to tell a personal story. The cautionary tone of the script may have
been due to its being addressed to a 12-year-old. Is such a script appropriate
for older adolescents, or should parents respond more directly and, if so, with
how much detail? If parents have smoked pot in the past, should they openly
share their stories with their teenagers, or should parents speak with the voice
of the parent self, and downplay their teenage selves in an eVort to emphasize
the role of caregiver?
Responding to the question Did you ever smoke pot when you were
younger? raises serious issues that lie at the heart of parenting, and at the
heart of making sense of ones life in a way that is both honest and responsible. In answering what we will henceforth refer to as the Question, one must
answer to oneself as well as to ones child. The ideals of personal integrity and
responsibility would seem at odds for parents who smoked marijuana in their
younger years, and who seek an optimal way to reconcile those values.

THE STUDY

To explore the parameters of this sensitive case of family narratives, we interviewed 17 parents (75% females) and 18 teens (60% females). The large majority of our informants were White, middle-class, and American born, and
had at least some college education. The informants all resided in a county of
Northern California, an area of the United States known for politically liberal
values and which, along with California at large and seven other states, voted
in the late 1990s in favor of the medicinal use of marijuana. The parents in
the sample ranged in age from 40 to their early 50s, and the average number
of children was two. Most of these children were currently in their mid- to
late teens, although a few were preteens and several were in their 20s. The
parents heard about our study by word of mouth; this is not an optimal
method for sampling the community, but we felt it was a useful way to begin
to explore the parameters of a very sensitive topic. Most of the teens whom
we interviewed were 18 years of age and in their Wrst months of living away
from home at college, a time when exposure to alternative lifestyles is in high
gear. Most of the teens were recruited from the research participation pool at
a local college for a study of family stories. All informants were promised
anonymity.
Initially we intended to interview parents and their own teenage children.
However, we found during pilot interviews that the topic could be invasive in
its impact on the relationship between the parent and child. Privacy issues
were one consideration, for although we assured informants that we would

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

193

not reveal what they had said to the parent and vice versa, we sensed some
hesitation on the part of each. We also heard a few stories about the impact
that anticipation of the interview had upon family discussions of the topic,
an interesting issue in its own right but one that goes beyond our current
scope. Because we were not sure how these family discussions might impact
what parents and teens said about the topic, we decided to switch to the safer
ground of non-related parents and teens. A woman in her late 40s, with
grown children, interviewed most of the parents, and a 20-year-old female
college student interviewed most of the teens. The interviewers, like most
of the respondents, were White and middle class, and had some college
education.
We emphasized to the informants that our intention was not to cast one
particular narrative practice as better than another. We dont know enough
about how these practices work in the context of particular families, and we
have not independently assessed antecedents or outcomes of the practices.
Ideally, we would like to capture these narrative practices on the hoof, as
they spontaneously emerge in everyday discourse, and to collect a much
larger and more representative sample. But at this stage of the project, we
were simply interested in exploring how parents and teens talked about this
particular transgression and the range of practices and values that emerged.
Informants Histories of Marijuana Use

To enhance rapport with the informants, we did not directly ask about their
own past and current levels of marijuana use or that of their families. Instead,
we waited for them to volunteer this information, and it usually emerged in
the course of the interview. Approximately one third of the parents said they
had never smoked marijuana, explaining that it was not available when they
were growing up or that alcohol was the drug of choice in their family and
peer group. Another third of the parents said they had used marijuana along
with other illegal drugs and alcohol in the past, but stopped permanently
when their children were young; most of these parents regarded themselves as
reformed, ex-drug abusers. The Wnal third of the parents described themselves
as recreational pot smokers in the past and present.2 This felicitous distribution of parental drug use (similar proportions of non-users, ex-abusers, and
recreational users) allowed us to compare practices of parents with diVerent
2 Our proportion of parents who had smoked marijuana in the past year, about one third,
was larger than the 10% of parents who, in national surveys, report occasional marijuana use
(Cass, 2002), but is not surprising given the community in which they resided.

194

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

transgressive histories.3 With regard to the marijuana use of the 18-year-olds,


75% said they had smoked pot; of these, half said their own parents had
smoked pot while the others either said their parents had not, or did not mention their parents marijuana history.4
The Interview

In the pilot phase of the study, we used open-ended interviews. However,


it soon became clear that teenage marijuana smoking is a topic that merges
with other kinds of risky behaviors in adolescence, particularly sex, alcohol,
and other drugs. Furthermore, the discourse was not conWned to ones own
behavior and that of ones children, but also included the behavior of grandparents, other family members, and friends. A few public Wgures also got referenced with a fair degree of regularity, such as Bill Clinton (I didnt inhale),
and George W. Bush (Maybe I did, maybe I didnt). In an eVort to get the
informants on track, we would ask, Did your child ever ask you if you have
smoked pot? To our surprise, we found that answers to this question were
usually not straightforward. We got few spontaneous narratives of speciWc
incidents in which parents disclosed their pot experiences to their children.
Because the parents appeared to be forthright with us about the extent of
their past marijuana use, and because rehearsal aids memorability, we surmised that speciWc episodes of disclosing their drug use to their children
tended to be historically rare and/or subsequently forgotten.
Although vivid stories of parent-child disclosure were not very prevalent in
the pilot interviews, opinions abounded about how parents should respond to
the Question. In most cases, the opinions reportedly were based on ones own
experience as a parent and/or a child, and observations about siblings, neighbors, and friends. On the basis of the variety of responses we obtained in the
pilot interviews, we developed brief scripted responses that parents said they
themselves, their parents, or teens said their parents used to answer the Question. We added to these a scripted response that paraphrased the advice from
the aforementioned Drug Free America website, although we did not reveal
this source to the informant.
3 One father described himself as a chronic drug abuser all his life; we excluded him from
the study because he was atypical of our informants, and because his narrative was so impersonal; he attributed his own drug use and that of his kids to the pressures of modern life and
the permissiveness of the media.
4 Although a 75% base rate is higher than the 54% of American high school seniors who
reportedly have experimented with drugs (Johnston, OMalley, & Bachman, 1998), it is not
surprising for Wrst-year college students in this Northern California community.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

195

The interview protocol shown in Table 8.1 was the basis for the interviews
that are the focus of the present study. During the interview, the informant
was asked to comment on the appropriateness of each hypothetical script,
with minimal intrusion on the part of the interviewer. Parents generally were
more voluble than the teens with regard to their personal experiences, and
seemed more emotionally engaged by the posed parenting predicaments. The
interviews were transcribed, and tallied with regard to which hypothetical
scripts the informant viewed as appropriate, which yielded mixed or ambivalent responses, and which were viewed as inappropriate.
TABLE 8.1
Interview Protocol for Parents and Teens
In our past interviews with parents and teens, a number of responses were oVered with regard
to how parents should talk to their kids about their personal experiences with marijuana.
Weve listed some of the responses on these cards. Were interested in knowing which
responses seem to be appropriate, and which seem inappropriate. Since there are no correct
answers to this question, were interviewing parents [teens] to see what they can tell us.
Id like you to read the Wrst response out loud, and to tell me whether you think its something a parent should say to their kid, and why or why not. Were especially interested in the
why or why not part. Then well move on to the next response. Before I read each parental
response, Id like you to pretend to be the kid. Each time, youll ask the same question:
Some of my friends are talking about smoking pot. Did you ever smoke pot? Ill then read
the response on the card. Then Id like you to tell me if you think the response is the right
thing to say to ones kid, and why or why not. Then well proceed to the next card and repeat
the process. Do you have any questions? . . . OK lets begin.
Kid says:
Some of my friends are talking about smoking pot. Did you ever smoke pot?
Parent responds:
1. Do you really want me to tell you whether I smoked pot as a kid? Think about how
you would feel if I said no, and think about how you would feel if I said yes. Do you
really want to know?
[Is this something you think a parent should say to their kid? Why or why not? Interviewer repeats after reading each hypothetical response.]
2. No, I didnt. That stuV rots the brain and makes people stupid. People start with pot
and then go on to harder stuV. Its really dangerous. I hope you never do it.
3. Yes, I smoked some pot when I was a teenager and I regret it now. It didnt help me
do better in school, and I could have gotten into a lot of trouble. I hope you learn from
my experience and dont try it.
4. A lot of kids smoked pot when I was a teenager, and a lot of them smoke it now. At
some point someone is going to oVer you some and I worry that it will be too strong,
or that youll get arrested. If you do experiment with it some time, I hope you will do
it in a safe place and that you will call me if you need me to come get you.

196

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

We found that the Wrst two scripts shown in Table 8.1 were unanimously
rejected by all of the parents and all of the teens. The third script was
endorsed to some degree by all the parents and all of the teens, and the fourth
script was endorsed by all of the teens and only some of the parents. In the
following sections, we elaborate the parents and teens reactions to each
script, focusing on the values that emerged for informants with diVerent histories of marijuana use.
Unanimous Endorsement of Honesty

Do you really want me to tell you whether I smoked pot as a kid?


Think about how you would feel if I said no, and think about how you would feel
if I said yes. Do you really want to know? All of the parents and teens, who
ranged from claimed abstainers to current users, were troubled by the evasiveness of the Wrst script because it seemed deceptive. The importance of giving a straightforward answer to the Question was endorsed by every parent
and teen in the study. Parents emphasized the virtue of being forthright and
not beating around the bush, as exempliWed by three mothers narratives: I
would never say that to my kid. It seems argumentative, avoids the question,
seems deceptive. If they asked me I Wgure they do really want to know. This
answer makes it seem like I have something to hide, that Im afraid I would
hurt them with the truth. Thats avoiding the issue.
Teens also endorsed the virtue of parental honesty, viewing the script as
dodging the question and implying that the parent had something to hide.
Understandably, teens more often took the childs perspective, saying that the
evasion would make the child feel bad for asking the question and unwilling
to conWde in the parent. These consequences for the child were volunteered
by teen informants who described themselves as having dabbled in pot, and
by a teen who said she would never smoke pot, nor would her parents. Here
are responses from four teens: Its vague, general, threatening, leaves the kid
in the dark. Makes him feel bad for asking the question. It will make him
unwilling to conWde in the parent since the parent isnt willing to conWde in
the kid. I think the parent is just trying to be cautious, but the kid would
clam up if the parent said this; the kid wants something a little more
deWnite. Thats really bad. The parent might as well say, Do you want me
to lie or do you want me to tell you the truth? They must think the kid is an
idiot. The kid will think the parent smoked pot and is uncomfortable talking about it.
One of the most vivid stories with regard to evasion came second-hand,
from a mother who reported the following conversation with the daughter of
a friend. This narrative emphasized the humanizing virtues of parental stories
Script 1.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

197

of misdeeds that were cited by parents of preschoolers in prior research


(Miller et al., 2001). Italics are added to emphasize the part of the narrative
that we found particularly interesting:
My friends daughter [Alice] was staying overnight because she and her mom
were having battles, having problems and stuV. And [Alice] said, You know,
my mom acts like shes an angel, shes never done anything like smoke pot, which isnt
true. And um, I know it and I think she knows it too. And I said, Well, would
you rather have her be open and talk to you, you know talk like were talking?
And she said, Yes I would because then at least Id know my mom is human.
And you know, as far as, you know, her mom is some goody two-shoes that never
did anything and duh-de-duh-de-duh. And I said, Well, you know a lot of
times parents dont want to tell you these things cuz they think theyll give
you, you know, ideas. And what she said to me was she said, How could I
possibly get more ideas than I already have?

This informant felt that the mothers failure to disclose her own transgressions contributed to the rift between the mother and the child. The informant, who cast herself and Alices mother as having smoked pot as teens, then
added, If you dont talk to them about it, I think youre setting them up to
get into trouble. I think youre setting yourself up for having problems with
your kid, bigger problems to deal with. Lying about the transgression was
viewed as more grievous than the transgression itself.
Unanimous Endorsement of Personal Integrity,
and of Knowing Drug Facts

No, I didnt. That stuV rots the brain and makes people stupid.
People start with pot and then go on to harder stuV. Its really dangerous. I hope
you never do it. This script was double-barreled because it included the
claim that the parent had not smoked marijuana, and the claim that pot rots
the brain and leads to harder drugs. A double-barreled response is not ideal for
a questionnaire item, but this sort of response was prominent in our pilot interviews, in which a parents denial of having ever smoked pot was reportedly
followed by a dire warning about the dangers of marijuana. Very few of our
informants, either parents or teens, believed that smoking marijuana usually
leads to harder drugs, reXecting empirical research (e.g., Gabany & Plummer,
1990; Kandel, 1975). Teens appeared to be more aware of this research than
parents, referring to Script 2 as propounding the erroneous gateway theory
of drugs. The teenage informants had been reared in an era in which drug
education was formally dispensed by experts, in contrast to their parents and
grandparents, for whom drug education was much more informal.
Script 2.

198

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

The grandparents were cast as the most ignorant of drug facts. A number
of the parents said that their own parents believed that pot was a gateway to
harder drugs, and that dire warnings about pot were a familiar refrain in their
family of origin. Their parents were viewed as not only nave about pot, but
also as hypocritical because alcohol was normalized while marijuana was
demonized. In one case, this perceived parental hypocrisy was used to justify
the daughters own excessive use of pot in adolescence. The daughter, a former heavy drug user who is now clean and sober, recounted the following
story:
In my own family there was so much drinking on the part of adults that when
I was experimenting with drugs and they told me, Dont smoke marijuana, its
a dangerous drug, I said, Well, youre doing your drugs. And I really remembered this hypocrisy and I didnt wanna be that way with our kids. That was
real important to me, to not be hypocritical. But then I felt really struck by the
fact that I had done things that I had to in order to not be a hypocrite. I had to
fess up. I wish very strongly I could have led a better example.

The above mother, angry at her own parents hypocrisy with regard to alcohol, became a heavy drug user. She used drugs with abandon in front of her
very young children, just as she said her parents had used alcohol. She now
sees the irony of her response to her parents hypocrisy, and wishes she had set
a better example.
Overall, parents were skeptical about Script 2 because someone who had
never used pot was unlikely to be knowledgeable about its eVects. Parents
who had no exposure to pot and endorsed the gateway theory seemed nave
to their children, and parents who condemned pot but were sanguine about
the use of alcohol seemed hypocritical.
Teenagers also attributed the navit of Script 2 to parental inexperience,
but some of the teens also intimated that the experience of smoking pot
itself, not just its long-term consequences, could not be understood by inexperienced parents. For example one teen said of the script, My mom
said that to me and it makes me think shes nave and biased because she
never smoked pot and doesnt know the whole story. Several teens said that
Script 2 would create a barrier to open communication and might even
boomerang:
Yes, my parents said that to me. In my family, drugs were bad, period. It was
ok to drink but not to use pot. Its a very lame answer because theres no
exchange allowed; the parent makes it a closed issue. Its too black and white.
The kid will feel he cant talk to his parents about it.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

199

Unanimous Endorsement of Expressing Some Degree


of Regret
Script 3. Yes, I smoked some pot when I was a teenager and I regret it now.
It didnt help me do better in school, and I could have gotten into a lot of trouble.
I hope you learn from my experience and dont try it. In this script, the parent
forthrightly confessed to smoking pot, an admission quickly followed by an
expression of regret. The presumed honesty of the admission, the realism of
the consequences, and the gentle suggestion that the child learn from the parents experience were all praised by various informants. A reformed former
heavy drug user, the mother of a 16-year-old son, emphasized regret in this
bitter account:
I have to keep drilling the regret into my sons head. . . .I hope he can learn
from my experience, but theres pressure from peers, and from his dad [her
ex-husband, a chronic pot grower], and I have to be realistic. Hes going to
experiment. I dont think its gonna stop him from smoking but I hope it helps
him be aware of whats happening to him. He did see me when I Wrst started in
recovery; he felt a great relief and we talked a lot about it, the downside and
how it made him feel vulnerable because of being raised a pot baby. I had to
apologize to him, when he was 10 or 11. But now hes 16 and seems to think
its cool having been a pot baby, its culturally sanctioned. . . .I do have so many
regrets, I look back and go, God I was such a mess.

Another self-identiWed former heavy drug user whose grown children have
drug problems of their own reported an episode in which she and her grown
son openly exchanged their regrets. Her account suggested the interesting
possibility that a parents regrets can only be fully understood by someone
who shares the same experience, in this case, ones grown child.
Whereas the preceding two informants voiced considerable regret about
their past drug use, the regret was not transformed into a hopeful vision for
the future. Rather, the mothers seemed to feel helpless with regard to their
own and their childrens future, and their diYculties were compounded by
a spouse or ex-spouse who was a heavy drug user. Clearly, parents stories of
regret draw from and inXuence other family members; regret does not exist in
isolation, although we are far from understanding the impact of regret on
families and lives.
Recreational pot smokers who endorsed the regret script did so half-heartedly, as if they were drawing from a dominant cultural narrative that might
serve as a protective device, but which they did not fully embrace. For example, one such mother endorsed Script 3 because it seemed to be a gentle way

200

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

to try to deter her children from using drugs. She said, Yes, I said it that way.
Its more honest than lying and saying I didnt smoke pot, but I dont really
regret having smoked it. I didnt know what else to say to make them think
twice about smoking pot.
Teens liked the script because it seemed more credible than the prior
scripts, even if ones parent would never say it. Teens seemed very able to differentiate between what their parents would say and what seemed to be an
optimal response:
Its personal, which is good, and honest about the eVects, not an exaggeration,
and its good because youre still being the parent. But my parents wouldnt say
thisId be shocked! Theyve never smoked pot.

Some of the teens parents had reportedly used Script 3, apparently to good
eVect: Yes, my dad said this. I really like it. Its honest and states risks, and
Ive never smoked pot. Yes, thats what my mom said, Im trusting you to
learn from my experience. Several teens emphasized the value of giving the
teen some leeway; the script seemed to do that by making the child think
twice, instead of prohibiting experimentation: Its really good. Emphasizes
moderation, illegality, and makes the kid think twice. Its good because its
honest and theyre trying to deter you from something they think is bad for
you. It makes the kid think.
A few teens questioned whether the regret script would be eVective because
the child might not be satisWed living vicariously through the parents experience, or because regret should be an equal opportunity: if a parent could
smoke pot and regret it, then a teen could, too. Its honest and informative
about possible consequences, but the moms experience may not be the kids
experience. Sometimes kids need to experience stuV for themselves. Its
good because shes telling the truth. But it could backWre, the kid might think
Well, you did it so Ill do it and learn for myself. Its better to say this to a
college student, a kid whos older.
Divergence Between Parents and Teens:
Providing a Safety Net for Experimentation

A lot of kids smoked pot when I was a teenager, and a lot of them
smoke it now. At some point someone is going to oVer you some and I worry that
it will be too strong, or that youll get arrested. If you do experiment with it some
time, I hope you will do it in a safe place and that you will call me if you need me
to come get you. This Wnal script emphasized the inevitability of the temptation, the potential physiological and legal dangers, and the importance of
being cautious and calling the parent for help, if need be. Although the script
Script 4.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

201

did not reveal the parents own marijuana history, this omission did not seem
to trouble the informants. Instead, informants focused on the delicate balance that was conveyed between allowing the teen freedom and responsibility
in an era in which exposure to marijuana was viewed as inevitable.
The teens, regardless of their own marijuana history and the attitudes of
their parents toward marijuana, were uniformly enthusiastic about the trust
and responsibility that was conveyed by Script 4. Teens felt that the script
would encourage honesty and openness on the part of the child, as well as
responsible experimentation. The enthusiasm for this script was apparent in
the response of a young woman who had never smoked pot, nor had her parents. Despite the fact that she could not imagine her parents voicing the
script, she thought it was a good way to handle it:
I think this one is great. The parent is taking responsibility and giving the kid
responsibility but also saying Ill be there for you. The parent is understanding. My parents would never say this, though. They would lecture me really
hard if I ever smoked pot.

A young man, whose dad used to grow pot and reportedly told hell-raising
stories about it, described himself as having gone in the opposite direction.
But he liked the script because its openness would make the teen feel he didnt
have to hide stuV, and that the teen would feel relieved. Another young
man liked the script because it addressed the dangers, health risks, legal risks,
and inevitable exposure: The parent seems very well informed about the
teens situation, which would make the kid feel more secure and understood.
Whereas teens were uniformly positive about Script 4, the script split the
general consensus that had prevailed in the parents responses to the prior
scripts. Reformed former pot users found the safety net script too permissive.
For example, the mother of the pot baby, described previously, felt that the
script encourages the kid to experiment. Its important to send a strong
no-pot message. This mother felt that she perpetually had to battle her sons
peer culture and her ex-husbands permissiveness to keep her son away from
marijuana. To her, the issue was black and white because of her fear that her
son would become like her former self, and like her ex-husband, an unrepentant daily pot-smoker.
Parents who favored the safety net script were abstainers who had never
smoked pot but had indulged in alcohol, or were recreational pot-smoking
parents. The former group included a mother of three teenagers, the youngest
of whom she was worried about. She said she uses this script because it
makes them feel Ill be there for them if they make a mistake, and that Ill be
disappointed if they go too far. She thinks the narrative instills a dual sense

202

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

of security and guilt, and also keeps the lines of communication open. A
recreational pot-smoking mother said that she emphasized how not to cross
the line with regard to pot smoking. She told her teens:
Dont take it to school, dont carry it around because its illegal and youll get
into trouble; you can smoke it at home with your friends before you go to a
dance, but if you are ever in a situation where you cant get home safely you call
me, no questions asked, no lectures.

Another recreational pot-smoking mother said, Weve never pretended that


our kids dont smoke pot, but we remind them not to go too far; use your
brain and be careful. The illegality bothers her, and the excess, but she feels
that experimentation is inevitable and so far she feels that their teenagers
are open with them about their experimentation and able to be moderate
about it.5

IMPLICATIONS

We were surprised at the eagerness with which parents volunteered to participate in the study, and their vested interest in the Wndings. Many sought from
us the perfect script, or as one mother phrased it, the magic bullet for how
to talk to ones children about ones personal experiences with marijuana. We
cannot provide a magic bullet on the basis of three dozen interviews, but the
themes that emerged suggest some guidelines for what virtues matter for
American parents and teens with regard to the narrative management of this
illicit transgression. These virtueshonesty, knowledge, regret, and, for
most parents and all of the teens, safe experimentation will be discussed in
this section along with larger implications for the Weld of family narrative.
The most prominent virtue across all parents and 18-year-olds was the
importance of answering the question Did you ever smoke pot when you
were younger? honestly and straightforwardly. A simple, immediate, and
honest yes or no was highly valued because it was felt to create a climate
of mutual honesty. Parents who were honest with their children could more
often expect their children to be honest with them. Sharing stories about
5 As an interesting side note for the study of family narrative, we noticed that among the
currently married informants, the recreational pot smokers more often used the collective
voice, using we instead of I in their discourse, for example, We say be smart about it and
dont get in a car. Call us, and try to be moderate. Such indications of parental consensus
(Steuve & Pleck, 2001) were less prevalent among married informants who had reportedly not
smoked pot, or who were reformed ex-drug abusers.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

203

ones illicit past may signify a turning point toward an egalitarian relationship
between parent and child, which tends to surface in emerging adulthood
(Arnett, 2000). Whereas oVering ones adolescent more freedom (e.g., to use
the family car or to stay out later) communicates a one-way trust in the child,
disclosing ones illicit behavior communicates a mutual trust. The disclosure
trusts the child to use the information wisely and to understand the parent
from a more mature perspective.
To our surprise, parents who had not smoked pot were not oV the hook
with regard to the Question because such parents ran the risk of being dismissed by their teens as nave and out of touch with the childs reality. Parents
who had not smoked pot tended to be regarded by their children as ignorant
of basic drug facts. The teens in our study, relative to their parents, tended to
be more formally educated about the inaccuracy of the claim that marijuana
is usually the gateway to hard drugs. However, some teens felt that accurate
knowledge of drug facts was not suYcient to render their parents credible
sources with regard to the eVects of marijuana, or to fully understand the
childs experience. These teens felt that parents had to have smoked marijuana
themselves in order to understand the whole story and to more fully open
the lines of communication between parent and child. This view raises the
interesting question of whether engaging in the same activity (although not
necessarily with ones child) opens lines of communication about the experience. For example, the full story of a parents sexual experiences is not usually
discussed in American families, regardless of the age of the child (Bartle,
1998).
In talking about their past experiences with marijuana, parents tended to
place much more emphasis on conveying risks than beneWts. Even parents
who were current occasional users endorsed the expression of regret in an
eVort to promote caution and long-term achievement over the pleasures of a
short-term high. While honesty about whether one had ever smoked pot was
an important theme, honesty about the full range of consequences bad and
good, short-term and long-termwas less valued. Thus, even for parents
who appeared to have enjoyed marijuana with few negative consequences,
expressing regret about potentially negative consequences trumped honesty about
experienced consequences.
The Wnal virtue, safe experimentation, was enthusiastically endorsed by
all the teens and by most of the parents. This virtue did not focus on the
parents marijuana experience, but instead emphasized the inevitability of
the temptation, the potential physiological and legal dangers, and the importance of being cautious and calling the parent for help, if need be. Teenagers
were enthusiastic about the realism, freedom and responsibility that were

204

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

simultaneously conveyed by this script. The dissenting parents were perhaps


the most interesting informants in the study. For parents who viewed marijuana as partly responsible for their own extended life problems, the childs
well-being did not seem well served by opening the doors to experimentation,
doors which they themselves had passed through in their youth and now tried
to keep tightly shut. The safe experimentation script was viewed as too permissive by such parents, whereas it was viewed as appropriate by parents who
felt that marijuana had not compromised the quality of their lives and who
felt that their children could also handle marijuana responsibly.
Larger Implications for the Field of Family Narrative

As noted in the introduction to this chapter, studies of parental stories of


transgressions have focused primarily on practices that are common across a
community rather than practices that are idiosyncratic to particular families
or parents (Miller et al., 2001). We, too, found some commonality across parents and teenagers, but this commonality pertained mostly to common values
or beliefs, not practices. Because of the delicacy of the topic, we did not
attempt to observe how parents actually talked to their teenagers about their
past use of marijuana. However, we did expect that parents would oVer vivid
narratives about how they had talked to their teenagers in the past.
To our surprise, no parents had a ready story to tell us about a speciWc episode in which they had talked to their children about their own experiences
with marijuana. Parents had Wrm opinions about what not to say, but did not
usually oVer speciWc stories about what they did say. We also observed that although most of the teens seemed conWdent about their knowledge with regard
to whether their parents had or had not smoked pot, the source of this knowledge was not necessarily the result of deliberate disclosure on the part of the
parent. Some knowledge was reportedly based on serendipitous observation
or eavesdropping: overhearing ones mother and aunt laughing about being
stoned on a high school camping trip, the picture in an uncles photo album of
ones dad smoking pot, a baggie full of stale weed tucked into the back of dads
sock drawer. Clearly, children derive information about their parents past
from many sources, only some of which are under the direct control of the
parent. The impact on children of indirect knowledge about their parents
lives, such as hearsay, is an interesting domain for future study because it encourages a more distributed conception of narrative selves and lives as extending beyond the nuclear family and into the wider community (Bruner, 1990).
Teenagers were aware of their parents tendency to shield this part of their
past, especially when the children were younger. Generally, the older and the

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

205

more responsible the child, the more likely the informants (both parents and
teens) viewed as appropriate parents disclosure of their illicit past. This sensitivity to the maturity of the child was striking, although parents on the
whole were viewed by teens as continuing to be more protective of their illicit
transgressions than the teens felt was necessary. The teens viewed their parents as people who make mistakes but are generally well intentioned, a view
that parallels the attitudes of the American parents of young children in the
Miller et al. (2001) study. The parents in the present study, however, were less
uniform than either Millers parents or our 18-year-olds in viewing their
teenagers as human beings who make mistakes. Many seemed to feel that the
fruits of their parenting were still on the vine. The more casual attitude of
teens toward parental transgressions than vice versa may reXect diVerences in
investment in the parental project (Steinberg, 2001). For example, parents
tend to view their childrens transgressions as reXecting on their own failure as
a parent, whereas teens do not tend to read such deep meaning into it
(Collins, 1990; Smetana, 1988). Sometimes in our interviews with teens, we
asked them how they would talk to their own kids about their experiences
with illicit drugs. This question tended to produce a more cautious story, one
that was reminiscent of the cautionary tales more often portrayed by parents.
Possibly, projecting oneself into the future may lead a teenager to cast the
present into a longer time perspective and to experience the present with
more of an eye to the future.
The most dramatic diVerences among parents centered on their comfort
with their own adolescent selves. The recreational pot-smoking mothers still
seemed to value the exploratory mentality to which they viewed marijuana as
a route. For such mothers, cautious experimentation was a practice which
they felt they had successfully incorporated into their lives; their current
selves were relatively conversant with their past selves (Bakhtin, 1981; Hermans, 1996). These mothers expressed pride in their childrens academic and
extracurricular achievements and conWdence in their childrens moderation
with regard to the use of pot, although they were alert to signs that their children were veering oV track. Such mothers seemed to exemplify families who
have a sustained generational identity. In a longitudinal study of California
counterculture families, Weisner and Bernheimer (1998, p. 212) found that
regardless of whether counterculture values had been sustained or abandoned,
all of the parents felt that their teenage childrens well-being (or lack thereof )
. . . resulted partly from countercultural parental values and life choices. A
sustained commitment to these values was found to be associated with greater
subjective and objective well being for middle-aged parents and their
teenagers, including lower levels of teenage drug use.

206

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

The recreational pot-smoking mothers contrasted markedly with the mothers who were worried about their teenage childrens use of drugs. The latter
mothers had a spouse or an ex-spouse who, in their view, did not use moderation as a philosophy. The disparity between the parents with regard to attitudes toward marijuana was cast as a perpetual obstacle in keeping their children on the good path. A former pot-using mother whose husband smokes
marijuana daily said she had never discussed her husbands marijuana use
with her 17-year-old:
My son oftentimes will say, Well, you know, Dad said this, you say that. You
can tell theres a little bit of confusion. On the other hand, I dont think its
reasonable for two people to get their stories straight ahead of time either. I
think you just have to go with it. Like I say, Well, you know, thats what dad
thinks and dad is diVerent from me.

Further fracturing the coherence of that family system was the troubled trajectory of the mothers life story. This mother seemed to have psychologically
divorced her adolescent drug self from her current sober self, but had not
developed a hopeful vision of the future for herself or for her children. This
kind of unhopeful personal story has been found to be associated with unfortunate family outcomes (McAdams & Bowman, 2001; Pratt, Norris, van de
Hoef, & Arnold, 2001; Singer, 1997).
Clearly an important issue to be pursued by family narrative research
concerns the impact of parents personal stories on family climate and childrens well-being. Consistent with Miller et al. (2001), most of the parents
in the present study believed that the personal stories that they chose to tell
to their children inXuenced their childrens development. We have no independent evidence to support the validity of such beliefs, but we noted some
variation with regard to the strength of the conviction. Fathers, although
underrepresented in the study, tended to be less concerned than mothers
about vividly disclosing past episodes of drug use to their children. Hints of
a parallel gender diVerence also emerged in the hell-raising stories that
fathers more often told children in Millers studies of American families
(Miller et al., 2001). Overall, we sensed that mothers viewed personal narratives as a more powerful socializing agent than did fathers, who tended to
view their stories as serving more of an entertainment than a guidance function. The Weld of family narrative is just beginning to understand the inXuence of parents personal stories on childrens well-being. How parents determine which stories are appropriate to tell is a fascinating route for future
research.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

207

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

We are grateful to the parents and teenagers who entrusted us with their experiences, to our interviewers, Mimi Cleary and Christina Chidester, and to Joe
Christy and Margarita Azmitia for comments on prior drafts. Preparation of
this manuscript was supported in part by a training grant from the National
Institute of Mental Health (5 T32 M20025-03) to the second author.
REFERENCES
Alessandri, S. M., & Wozniak, R. (1989). Continuity and change in intrafamilial agreement in
beliefs concerning the adolescent. A follow-up study. Child Development, 60, 335339.
Arnett, J. J. (2000). Emerging adulthood: A theory of development from the late teens through
the twenties. American Psychologist, 55, 469480.
Bakhtin, M. (1981). The dialogic imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Bartle, N. (1998). Venus in blue jeans: Why mothers and daughters need to talk about sex. Boston:
Houghton MiZin.
Bruner, J. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Burton, D. Sussman, S., Hansen, W. B., Johnson, C. A., & Flay, B. R. (1989). Image attributions and smoking intentions among seventh grade students. Journal of Applied Social Psychology, 19, 656664.
Cass, D. (2002, September 6). Government survey Wnds drug use on the rise. Santa Cruz Sentinel (Associated Press), p. A-5.
Collins, W. A. (1990). Parent-child relationships in the transition to adolescence: Continuity
and change in interaction, aVect, and cognition. In R. Montemayor, G. R. Adams, &
T. Gullotta (Eds.), Advances in adolescent development: Vol. 2. The transition from childhood
to adolescence (pp. 85106). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.
Collins, W. A. (1997). Relationships and development during adolescence: Interpersonal
adaptation to individual change. Personal Relationships, 4, 114.
Collins, W. A., & Repinski, D. J. (1994). Relationships during adolescence: Continuity an
change in interpersonal perspective. In R. Montemayor & G. R. Adams (Eds.), Advances in
adolescent development: Vol. 6. Personal relationships during adolescence (pp. 736). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Fiese, B., Hooker, K., Kotary, L., Schwagler, J., & Rimmer, M. (1995). Family stories: Gender
diVerences in thematic content. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 763770.
Fung, H. (1999). Becoming a moral child: The socialization of shame among young Chinese
children. Ethos, 27, 180209.
Gabany, S. G., & Plummer, P. (1990). The Marijuana Perception Inventory: The eVects of
substance abuse instruction. Journal of Drug Education, 20, 234245.
Goodnow, J. J. (1992). Parents ideas, childrens ideas: Correspondence and divergence. In I. E.
Sigel, A. V. McGillicuddy-DeLisi, & J. J. Goodnow (Eds.), Parental belief systems: The psychological consequences for children (2nd ed., pp. 293317). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

208

T H O R N E , M c L E A N , D A S B AC H

Grotevant, G. D., & Cooper, C. R. (1985). Patterns of interaction in family relationships and
the development of identity exploration in adolescence. Child Development, 56, 415428.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hermans, H. J. M. (1996). Voicing the self: From information processing to dialogical interchange. Psychological Bulletin, 119, 3150.
Johnston, L. D., OMalley, P. M., & Bachman, J. G. (1986). Drug use among American high
school students, college students, and other young adults: National trends through 1985. Rockville, MD: National Institute on Drug Abuse.
Johnston, L. D., OMalley, P., & Bachman, J. G. (1998). National Survey Results on Drug Use
from Monitoring the Future Study. Rockville, MD: U.S. Department of Health & Human
Services.
Kandel, D. (1975). Stages in adolescent involvement in drug use. Science, 190, 912914.
McAdams, D. P. (1993). The stories we live by: Personal myths and the making of the self. New
York: William Morrow.
McAdams, D. P., & Bowman, P. J. (2001). Narrating lifes turning points: Redemption and
contamination. In D. P. McAdams, R. Josselson, & A. Lieblich (Eds.), Turns in the road:
Narrative studies of lives in transition (pp. 334). Washington, DC: American Psychological
Association.
McLean, K. C., & Thorne, A. (2003). Late adolescents self-deWning memories about relationships. Developmental Psychology, 39, 635645.
Miller, P. J., Sandel, T. L., Liang, C.-H., & Fung, H. (2001). Narrating transgressions in Longwood: The discourses, meanings, and paradoxes of an American socializing practice. Ethos,
29, 159186.
Miller, P. J., Wiley, A., Fung, H., & Liang, C.-H. (1997). Personal storytelling as a medium of
socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68, 557568.
Ochs, E., & SchieVelin, B. (1984). Language acquisition and socialization: Three developmental stories and their implications. In R. A. Shweder & R. LeVine (Eds.), Culture theory:
Essays on mind, self and emotion (pp. 276320). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J. E., van de Hoef, S., & Arnold, M. L. (2001). Stories of hope: Parental
optimism in narratives about adolescent children. Journal of Personal and Social Relationships, 18, 603623.
Shedler, J., & Block, J. (1990). Adolescent drug use and psychological health. American Psychologist, 45, 612630.
Singer, J. A. (1997). Message in a bottle: Stories of men and addiction. New York: The Free Press.
Smetana, J. (1988). Concepts of self and social convention: Adolescents and parents reasoning about hypothetical and actual family conXicts. In M. Gunnar (Ed.), Twenty-Wrst
Minnesota symposium on child psychology (pp. 79122). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates.
Steinberg, L. (2001). We know some things: Parent-adolescent relationships in retrospect and
prospect. Journal of Research on Adolescence,11, 119.
Stueve, J. L., & Pleck, J. H. (2001). Parenting voices: Solo parent identity and co-parent
identities in married parents narratives of meaningful parenting experiences. Journal of
Social & Personal Relationships, 18, 691708.
U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. (1998). Keeping youth drug-free (DHHS
Publication No. 619-046/90675). Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing OYce.

8.

W H E N PA R E N TS S TO R I E S G O TO P OT

209

Weisner, T. S., & Bernheimer, L. P. (1998). Children of the 1960s at midlife: Generational
identity and the Family Adaptive Project. In R. A. Shweder (Ed.), Welcome to middle age
(And other cultural Wctions) (pp. 211257). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

PA R T I I I

Young Adulthood: Intimacy


and Relationship Narratives

9
Marital Attachment
and Family Functioning:
Use of Narrative Methodology
Susan Dickstein
Brown University

This chapter focuses on the extent to which marriage functions as an attachment relationship reXected in working models incorporating organized representations of the self and of social relationships produced in narrative form.
Marriage is an intimate adult relationship embedded within a family system
that is linked with quality of functioning in numerous other aspects of family
life. For example, research has shown that the marriage is related to a host of
outcomes including how parents interact with their infants, how young children express and regulate emotion, and how episodes of depression in women
are experienced, maintained, and resolved (Barnett & Gotlib, 1988; Hooley
& Teasdale, 1989; Jacobson, Dobson, Fruzetti, Schmaling, & Salusky, 1991;
Kowalik & Gotlib, 1987). There has been ongoing examination of the processes by which marriage inXuences (and is inXuenced by) various family subsystem functions. In this chapter, focus is placed on attachment processes to
examine links among family subsystems.
Attachment research has become a hallmark approach from which to
conceptualize interpersonal interaction that has meaning across generational
boundaries and relationship contexts (van IJzendoorn, 1992; Waters, Vaughn,
Posada, & Kondo-Ikemura, 1995). To date, most of this work has examined
adult attachment relationships in the realm of adults conceptualization of
their own early childhood relationships with their parents. In particular, adult
attachment relationships have been the focus of attention when attempting
to elucidate processes that might help explain attachment status in children.
In this chapter, we broaden the lens to examine the marital relationship as an
adult attachment construct with associated representational properties (Hazan
& Shaver, 1990; Owens et al., 1995; Shaver, Hazan, & Bradshaw, 1988). It is
213

214

DICKSTEIN

anticipated that conceptualization of the marriage as an attachment construct


will elucidate important relational processes and associations within the family. In fact, we believe these marital attachment relationships are an important
component for full understanding of the complex pattern of inter- and intragenerational representations of selfother relatedness. For example, from an
attachment perspective, it may be the case that the marital relationship has an
important potential restorative function, which can promote the development of secure infant-parent attachment relationships in the next generation.
In this chapter, our goal is to describe the conceptual underpinnings of the
marital attachment construct and highlight the utility of examining marriage stories from an attachment perspective.

ATTACHMENT THEORY

Bowlby (1982) theorized that children form internal working models of their
relationships with others based on early interactions with signiWcant caregivers. When children have experiences with reliable and responsive caregivers,
they construct a working model of that relationship as secure and accessible,
and a sense of self as adequate and worthy (Bretherton, 1985; Cummings &
Cicchetti, 1990). In contrast, the continual experience of caregiver unavailability or inconsistency leads to expectations that the caregiver cannot be
relied on as a secure base from which to explore the world, and that the self is
unworthy of love. Overall, attachment theory supports the following points:
(a) the childs sense of self is formed within a relationship context; (b) each
child potentially has multiple signiWcant relationship contexts within which
the sense of self can be diVerentiated and enriched; and (c) working models
are a heuristic for understanding the organized representations of self and
relationships corresponding to observable attachment patterns that can be
classiWed through use of standard procedures.
Recent methodological developments have facilitated more direct assessment of adults current working models of their past relationships, termed
adult attachment (George, Kaplan, & Main, 1985; Main & Goldwyn, 1988).
Secure attachment is reXected in a balance between the attachment and
exploratory motivational systems. In infants, this is demonstrated when the
child seeks proximity to, and obtains comfort from, the caregiver during
times of distress, following which the child promptly returns to exploration
of the object and social worlds. In adults, secure attachment (labeled autonomous) is manifest as the ability to describe early relationships with caregivers
in a coherent and consistent manner; these adults convey a strong sense of

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

215

personal identity; and emphasis is placed on the importance and value of


early experiences and current relationships.
Insecure attachment, on the other hand, is characterized by disruptions
between the attachment and developmentally appropriate motivational systems. In infants, there are two organized patterns of insecure attachment
(avoidant and resistant), which diVer on the level of activation of attachment
behaviors. There is also one pattern with no clear organization (disorganized).
Avoidant infant-parent attachment is manifest when a child, during a stressful situation (conWrmed by high levels of physiological arousal), de-activates
attachment behavior by avoiding contact with the parent in an apparent
attempt to minimize the anxiety associated with possible maternal rejection.
In adults, the analogous pattern is classiWed as dismissing of attachment in
which adults limit, deactivate, or devalue the inXuence of attachment relationships. Resistant infant-parent attachment is manifest when a child overactivates attachment behavior by simultaneously demanding and rejecting
parental attention, and exhibits excessive dependence on the parent in an
attempt to minimize arousal. In adults, the analogous pattern is classiWed as
preoccupied with attachment characterized by descriptions of early attachment
relationships that are confused or conXicted, often accented by passivity, fear,
or anger.
Finally, the disorganized infant-parent attachment classiWcation involves
the child exhibiting no consistent way to deal with stressful attachmentrelated situations. In adults, attachment disorganization is characterized by a
lack of resolution with respect to loss or trauma in which there is a pervasive
emphasis on continued eVects of loss or trauma in connection with current
attachment experiences, and/or lapses in the monitoring of discourse or reasoning with the respect to the experience. Transcripts that reXect unresolved
status exhibit speciWc lapses in monitoring of reasoning (such as psychologically confused statements or attempts to manipulate the mind with respect to
the loss) and/or discourse (such as unusual attention to detail when describing the loss or invasion of loss-related themes into other topics).
Patterns of Attachment

Theoretical and empirical work suggests that mothers working models of


their early relationships with their own parents (reXected in adult attachment classiWcations) greatly inXuence the interaction patterns they develop
with their children. Maternal insecure adult attachment is related to the
development of behavior problems in their children (Crowell & Feldman,
1989; 1991), sleep disorders in their toddlers (Benoit, Zeanah, Boucher, &

216

DICKSTEIN

Minde, 1989), failure to thrive in their infants (Benoit, Zeanah, & Barton,
1989), and dysregulations in mother-infant aVect attunement (Haft &
Slade, 1989).
Further, parents working models of relationships developed early in life
are related to the attachment relationships they develop with their own children. Prospective studies have found concordance rates ranging from 66%
to 75% between maternal adult attachment classiWcations (secure versus insecure) obtained by Adult Attachment Interview (AAI) during pregnancy,
and infant-mother attachment (secure versus insecure) observed in the
Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters, and Wall (1978) Strange Situation more than a
year later (Benoit, Vidovic, & Roman, 1991; Fonagy, Steele, & Steele, 1991;
Ward, Botyanski, Plunkett, & Carlson, 1991). A similar range of concordance rates was found when the AAI was administered concurrently or following the Strange Situation (Eichberg, 1987; Main & Goldwyn, 1994;
Zeanah & Emde, 1994).
Although most of the literature to date has focused on mothers, recent work
has highlighted the importance of examining fathers working models of relationships. In a meta-analysis conducted by van IJzendoorn and BakermansKranenburg (1996), results indicated that the distribution of attachment representations in fathers is remarkably similar to that of mothers. Initial work
suggests that mothers and fathers representations may diVerentially correspond with child outcomes. For example, while fathers attachment representations were signiWcantly related to father-infant security, van IJzendoorn and
Bakermans-Kranenburg (1996) found that the association was somewhat less
strong than it was for mothers. In addition, in a nonclinical sample, Cowan,
Cohn, Cowan, and Pearson (1996) found that fathers representations were
more associated with teacher ratings of externalizing behaviors in preschool
age children, whereas mothers representations were more associated with
child internalizing behaviors.
In a related vein, recent work has assessed associations between the quality
of the marital relationship and each partners adult attachment working
model of childhood. Cohn, Cowan, Cowan, and Pearson (1992) found no
relation between adult attachment (of early childhood relationships) classiWcations and self-reports of marital satisfaction, obtained from both husbands
and wives. For husbands, however, adult attachment security was related to
more positive (as opposed to conXictual) behavior in the marriage. Further,
the authors speculated that a secure partner may, in fact, buVer negative
eVects of insecure working models established concerning early experience
(i.e., adult attachment) vis--vis current marital behavior. Such Wndings support our working hypothesis that the nature of the attachment relationship

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

217

between the partners may be linked both to marital behavior and to intergenerational continuity of relationship patterns.
In sum, attachment patterns can be examined in diVerent developmental
periods; there is correspondence within families across generations; these
attachments appear to inXuence the developing sense of self as well as the
developing expectations regarding the extent to which others can be relied on
as emotional and social supports; and mothers and fathers representations
potentially yield diVerential associations with parent-child and marital behavior. While a high degree of within-family correspondence has been reported
between adult and infant-parent attachment classiWcations, the direction of
the eVects has not been clearly substantiated. The extent to which this association can be accounted for by intervening variables (such as the nature of
mothers current adult relationships) has not been fully explored. Finally, factors that may account for the observed intergenerational (and relational)
matches and mismatches (potentially revealing protective or risk factors) have
not been fully investigated.

MARITAL ATTACHMENT

Marital attachment is a concept that extends attachment constructs to the


marital domain, and is broader in its cognitive-aVective scope than appraisal
of current marital satisfaction. Assessment of marital attachment is designed
to infer the working model of the marriage. Similar to infant and adult
attachment, marital attachment involves the extent to which partners operate
from a secure base in order to accomplish developmentally appropriate tasks
within adult domains such as eVective parenting or employment, return to
a safe haven during times of stress or distress, and use of the attachment relationship (the marriage, in this case) to regulate aVect (e.g., Cohn, Silver,
Cowan, Cowan, & Pearson, 1992; Hazan & Shaver, 1990; Shaver et al., 1988).
As with adult attachment, security of marital attachment is hypothesized
to have implications for infant-parent attachment. However, unlike adult
attachment, which is an assessment of a current model of caregiving relationships elicited via descriptions of past relationships, marital attachment is
an assessment of a current model of intimate relationships elicited via descriptions of a current relationship within the context in which infant-parent
attachment develops. As such, marital attachment is likely to be associated
with the immediate nature of current family functioning, and therefore,
may play a moderating role in the continuation of attachment security or
insecurity across generations. For example, it is hypothesized that secure

218

DICKSTEIN

marital attachment may function to reduce the likelihood of insecure adult


attachment leading to insecure infant-parent attachment. In families where
both adult partners are secure in their marital attachment relationship (independent of adult attachment status), better family functioning may be evident due to processes such as eVective skills in communication, problem
solving, and resolution of negative aVect (without implication of directional
causality). This, in turn, may be associated with increased parental availability and sensitivity to the infants needs, and thus secure infant-parent attachment. This moderation of the typical pattern of insecure adult attachment
status promoting insecure infant-parent attachment leads to the view of
marital attachment as a protective factor in the intergenerational transmission of attachment patterns. Thus, demonstrating an association of marital
attachment and family functioning would suggest continued interest in the
important hypothesis that secure marital attachment may help break the
cycle in which insecure adult attachment leads to insecure infant-parent
attachment.
This model rests on the assumptions that (a) adults can acess attachment
working models diVerentially based on relationship context, and (b) marriage
constitutes an attachment-relationship domain. We hypothesize that there is
only slight (if any) association between marital attachment and adult attachment classiWcations; any associations between the measures are assumed to
be due to overlap in method variance, not to construct concordance. We also
hypothesize that there is minimal association between marital attachment
classiWcation and marital satisfaction given the assumption that marital representation is diVerent from marital appraisal and behavior. And, Wnally, we
hypothesize that there is substantial association between marital attachment
classiWcation and family functioning given the assumption that the working
model or representation of the marital relationship is intrinsically tied (in a
bi-directional manner) to the ways in which the couple transacts the day-today routines and rituals of being a family.

MARITAL ATTACHMENT INTERVIEW (MAI)

The Marital Attachment Interview is a direct extension of the Adult Attachment Interview (George, Kaplan, & Main, 1996), with modiWcations to
address diVerences between construction of past relationships with the prior
generation and the current same-generation marital attachment relationship.
The MAI maintains similar properties as the AAI, including use of structured
questions about attachment issues, questions asked in a set order, probes

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

219

for speciWc information without altering the persons phrasing, no use of


interpretive or integrative comments, and questions probing for overall evaluations of experience in conjunction with requests for speciWc examples. The
MAI has a total of 16 questions covering orientation to the current marital
relationship; description of the current relationship including expectations,
changes over time, and separation experiences; experiences with rejection,
threat, and support from the partner; past signiWcant and intimate adult relationships including any prior divorces and/or abusive relationship experiences (from which information is obtained to score Unresolved with Respect
to Loss or Trauma); information regarding the persons memories of his/her
own parents marital relationship; description of marital relationship inXuences on the current personality; and a wrap up.
Marital Attachment Interview Scoring

The narratives generated from verbatim transcripts of the Marital Attachment Interview are coded using the Adult Attachment Interview scoring system in slightly modiWed form to make marital attachment classiWcations
(Main & Goldwyn, 1994). Attachment classiWcations from narrative assessment are based on two major dimensions, including security-insecurity and
activation-deactivation of attachment behavior (Kobak, Cole, Ferenz-Gillies,
& Flemming, 1993). The security-insecurity dimension is assessed from narrative properties including narrative characteristics (how the person presents
narrative material) and content regarding actual relationship experiences
(what the person says about relationships). The manner in which the person
presents narrative material is weighted more heavily in the scoring than the
speciWc content.
Narrative Scales. For the MAI, Loving and Rejection scales are scored
consistent with their counterparts in the AAI system. The Loving scale
assesses the extent to which the person describes experiences in the current
signiWcant adult relationship as loving or unloving, and maintains a Wrm
sense that the partners are emotionally supportive and available. The Rejection scale assesses the extent to which the person describes experiences in the
relationship as rejecting and/or avoiding of the persons attachment behaviors, as being emotionally distant or aloof, and/or as desiring to be out of the
relationship altogether. Given the adult-adult nature of the marital relationship, these scales are considered bi-directionally; thus, a rating is made based
on the persons experience of being rejected by the partner and/or the persons
experience of rejecting the partner. Similar to AAI scoring, experience scales

220

DICKSTEIN

are ultimately scored based on the raters judgments about the quality of the
relationship in each domain.
The scales rating Narrative Characteristics include Coherence, Idealization, Anger, Derogation, Lack of SpeciWcity (the analogue of AAI Lack of
Recall), Metacognitive Process, Passivity of Thought Processes, and Fear of
Loss. These scales are consistent with their AAI counterparts, with Coherence
being the primary scale upon which classiWcation is based. Three of these
scales were modiWed to better reXect the current nature of the marital relationship. The Anger scale assesses the extent to which the person indicates
anger toward or about the partner during the interview, which reXects current
involvement in anger experiences. This scale is intended to assess thematic
and pervasive anger, or anger that is presented in an overwhelming manner.
Thus, a person who discloses currently felt anger with the partner related to a
recent Wght, but does so in an organized and reXective manner would not
receive a high score on this scale. The Lack of SpeciWcity scale corresponds to
the AAI Lack of Recall scale. The MAI scale is modiWed to address the current
nature of the marital relationship, and thus emphasis is placed on speciWcity
of disclosure (i.e., ability to provide rich and detailed description of experience) rather than memory for distal events. The Fear of Loss scale was modiWed to address overwhelming anxiety about the possibility of the partners
death or abandonment (rather than a child as in the AAI scoring).
Narrative Classifications. Similar to the AAI, MAI classiWcations of
Secure (Autonomous) or Insecure (Dismissing or Preoccupied) are made. In
addition, a classiWcation of Unresolved with Respect to Loss or Trauma may
be assigned. The MAI Unresolved Loss classiWcation reXects lack of resolution
with respect to the dissolution (due to separation, divorce, or death) of past
intimate adult relationships. The MAI Trauma classiWcation reXects lack of
resolution with respect to abusive experiences with past or current partners.
Also similar to the AAI system, Cannot Classify is assigned when no organized working model pattern can be detected or when clear evidence of two
discrepant models is provided within the transcript.
Secure attachment narratives are coherent, detailed, and responsive to the
interview queries. They may be associated with modest levels of either activation or deactivation of attachment behavior. Information is presented in a relatively independent and objective manner, demonstrating perspective, insight,
and/or understanding, as well as the ability to manage negative aVect. Although speciWc content and valence of relationships may vary, there is thematic
indication of valuing attachment relationships and regard for attachmentrelated experiences as inXuential in current personality and functioning.

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

221

The two main types of insecure attachment (characterized by incoherence,


poor access to attachment relevant-material, and shift of focus away from the
interview agenda) are diVerentiated based on either underactivation of the
attachment system (i.e., demonstration of dismissing, distancing, or devaluing of the attachment Wgure) or overactivation of the attachment system (i.e.,
demonstration of confusion, conXict, and/or heightened distraction with the
attachment Wgure).
Narratives reXecting the underactivation form of insecurity (Dismissing)
are characterized by lack of speciWcity regarding attachment experiences and
their inXuence on current personality and functioning. Marital attachment
narratives characterized by underactivation may be manifest by dismissal of
the importance of relationships, description of apparently diYcult experiences in the relationship (e.g., marital separation) with denial or failure to
address the impact to the self, indication of being cut oV from the emotional
aspects of relationships, lack of speciWcity regarding details of relationship
experiences, and/or global positive yet unsubstantiated (or contradicted) evaluation of the relationship.
Narratives reXecting the overactivation form of insecurity (Preoccupied)
are characterized by an inability to abstract from or make sense of attachment
relationship experience (i.e., to coherently access meaningful aspects of the
relationship in an objective manner); in addition, these narratives involve
current thematic anger, passivity or vagueness of thought, and a sense of
being overwhelmed by relationships. Marital attachment narratives characterized by overactivation may be manifest by description of being overwhelmed by the demands of relationships, of increased dependency upon
relationships, and/or indication of lack of selfother diVerentiation.
A second classiWcation (in addition to one of the three strategies just described) is also made regarding presence of Unresolved features with Respect
to Loss or Trauma. This is manifest by current confusion and a sense of being
overwhelmed by a signiWcant traumatic event that, in the case of marital
attachment, may include loss of a former or current partner due to death or
dissolution of the relationship, or severe trauma (such as abuse by the current
or former partner). Similar to the AAI, MAI transcripts that reXect Unresolved status exhibit speciWc lapses in monitoring of reasoning (such as psychologically confused statements or attempts to manipulate the mind with
respect to the loss or trauma) and/or discourse (such as unusual attention to
detail when describing the loss or invasion of loss-related themes into other
topics).
A Cannot Classify rating is provided for those transcripts that do not
meet criteria for one of the three major classiWcations described previously.

222

DICKSTEIN

This may involve simultaneous use of distinct strategies (pertaining to the


state of mind scales) so that no organized pattern is apparent, or may involve
evidence of discrepant states of mind in diVerent portions of the interview.
Marital Attachment Narratives

Attachment classiWcations are primarily judged with respect to the manner in


which the narrative is conveyed (i.e., coherence), although the thematic content of marriage stories provides useful and enriched information about the
nature and quality of these relationships. We review relevant themes of narratives rated as secure and insecure, and provide examples next. (While we
obtained MAI narratives from men and women, all examples are from narratives provided by women for illustrative purposes. The details of the following excerpts have been altered to protect subject conWdentiality.)
Valuing of Relationships. One theme that characterizes secure marital
attachment narratives is a Xuid and balanced description of the relationship
emphasizing the value of attachment relationships and respect for attachment
related experiences. Although descriptions of the partner or the relationship
are not universally positive, stories are told with minimal defensiveness about
dissatisfying aspects. For example, in response to the question, Whats your
relationship [with your partner] like now?, Mary (who was in the third
trimester of pregnancy) responded, Theres been a lot of strain with this baby
coming . . . we are both so busy, and I wonder about how we are going to
make the adjustment. . . . Umm, the one thing is we continue to talk and
thats the best part. You know, its funny, when we Wrst started dating everyone was like, oh wait til youre married, then things will change or wait til
you have childrenand to us we havent let it change. I mean we continue to
work hard at it and I know for me, and I think I can say for him, too, that my
relationship with him is the most important thing in my life, and I work at
it thats the number one priority.
This contrasts with themes from insecure marital attachment narratives
in which there tends to be dismissal of the importance of the relationship or
of relationships in general. On one hand, these narratives may provide minimal detail and little apparent consideration of the importance of the relationship. For example, in response to the question, Whats your relationship
[with your partner] like now?, Joan answered, Um . . . I dont know how
to describe it. . . . He had really nice parents. My parents have nothing to say.
I mean you pretty much do your own thing. On the other hand, insecure marital attachment may also be characterized by ongoing ambivalence

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

223

regarding the relationship, with a sense of being overwhelmed, angry, and/or


confused by relationship experiences. For example, when Sasha was asked to
describe the one thing that stood out about her wedding day she responded,
I just remember wondering would he show up, would he show up. I just felt
that something would go wrong. When I got there he was there. . . . We
danced a lot. Everyone had a good time. You know, since then its not all fun
like it used to be. It can get confusing. I feel really safe with him. I dont really
know if he will be coming home.
Marital attachment stories rated as secure include vivid and rich descriptions of early
moments of the relationship, and a clear and coherent sense of the development of (and changes within) the relationship over time. For example, stories
describing the start of the relationship vary widely, with relatively few depicting a love at Wrst sight romanceinstead, there are stories that describe a
relationship rooted in friendship that blossomed in intimate ways due to each
partners deliberate eVorts; or that describe a relationship initiated in the context of swift passion that gave rise to lives intertwined on pragmatic as well as
emotional levels. Despite diVerences in content, there is a rich and integrated
perspective of relationship development over time. For example, Jenny indicated, I have a feeling of comfort and absolute trust and not, you know, worrying like are we gonna make it. I dont worry about saying the wrong thing
anymore because I know that Im going to at some point, I know hes going
to at some point, and well just get through it. We found out that we can get
through the hard times, you know.
Alternatively, this contrasts to narratives in which relationship experiences
are reported with minimal perspective about the meaning, development, or
impact of those experiences. For example, in response to the probe, Id like
you to describe your relationship with Bill from the earliest you can recall by
telling me a story that stands out for you, Donna indicated, Nothing really
happened. We went on a lot of dates and then we did a lot of things. We
could always talk and we always did things together. Let me see. . . . Like with
some guys you dont connect. You know you kind of do your own thing. We
just always connected. . . . Theres no particular time. The topic seems closed
for further elaboration or consideration.
Openness to the Topic of Relationship Importance.

Relationship Influences. Stories based in security also often include an


open examination of how the marriage is integrated into other current important relationships (such as friendships and family of origin relationships),
and/or knowledge that the relationship has meaning with respect to previous

224

DICKSTEIN

interpersonal experiences (either deliberate breaking with prior patterns or


conscious carrying forward of desired features). Overall, these stories convey
a clear sense of how the individual came to be in the relationship (on both
pragmatic and psychological grounds), the extent to which the relationship
has meaning to the individual, and the role of the relationship in the individuals unique growth in adult developmental domains. For example, in
response to the question, What is the main thing youve learned from being
in a relationship with [your partner]? Angela replied, Umm, that I can trust
someone. Thats what popped into my head, so maybe I should go with that
[reXecting a collaborative participation in the interview]. Not that I wasnt a
trusting person before but maybe Im more so now than Ive ever been. I
think I have learned to depend on someone and not always feel I need to do
it by myself. Im more trusting now that its us, not just me.
This is in contrast with Annies response: I mean I dont know. I guess this
is what Ive always wanted. I always wanted to be with someone that I, you
know, wanted to love and enjoy being with them, and have a few things in
common. I think thats pretty much about it. Its not something that, you
know, you think about a lot. In Annies narrative, there was a striking
absence of consideration about how previous relationship experiences may
have inXuenced her current marriage choices nor how the current relationship aVects her own self-development.

THE FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS STUDY:


MAI PILOT STUDY

There is evidence to suggest that the Marital Attachment Interview (MAI) is


a useful narrative-based method for collecting information about current
intimate adult relationships (Dickstein, Seifer, St. Andre, & Schiller, 2001).
These results were obtained from a pilot study examining links between MAI
and AAI narratives. The sample for this pilot study included 24 families,
recruited primarily from other ongoing studies of early childhood development. All partners were married and/or living together, and had at least one
child 14 months of age (39% were Wrstborn). All subjects were Caucasian,
with 8.6% of the sample of Portuguese ethnicity. On average, the subjects
were well educated (mean years of schooling for wives and husbands was 15.5
and 15.7, respectively; range = 1020 years). They were married on average
4.1 years (range = 114 years); one husband had been previously widowed,
and four participants (two husbands and two wives) had been previously
divorced.

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

225

Wives and husbands each completed AAI and MAI interviews, on separate
occasions and independent of one another. Each partner also independently
completed questionnaires regarding family functioning and marital satisfaction. Family functioning was assessed using the Family Assessment Device
(FAD; Epstein, Baldwin, & Bishop, 1983). The FAD is a 60-item self-report
questionnaire based on the McMaster Model of Family Functioning to assess
six domains of family functioning including Roles, Communication, Problem Solving, Behavior Control, AVective Responsiveness, and AVective Involvement, as well as Total Family Functioning (Epstein, Baldwin, & Bishop,
1983; Epstein, Bishop & Levin, 1978). Subjects rated items on a four-point
scale, ranging from very healthy (1) to very unhealthy (4), with lower scores
indicating healthier family functioning. The Total Family Functioning score
for each partner was used in the current analyses. For the sample as a whole,
mean FAD scores for wives and husbands were 1.63 (0.40) and 1.75 (0.41),
respectively.
Marital satisfaction was assessed using the Dyadic Adjustment Scale (DAS;
Spanier, 1976). The DAS is a 32-item instrument that has been widely used
to assess dyadic satisfaction, cohesion, consensus, and expression of aVection
within the current partner relationship, and yields an overall Marital Satisfaction score for each partner. For the sample as a whole, mean DAS scores for
wives and husbands were 105.44 (17.03) and 106.41 (15.62), respectively.
Clinical psychologists or child psychiatrists conducted all attachment interviews. For both attachment interview protocols, clinicians were trained to
be thoroughly familiar with the interview material, format, and general scoring principles in order to adhere to the interview structure while maintaining
a conversation-like and empathic style. Interviews were conducted in a comfortable and private setting in the laboratory, with assurances given that no
information would be disclosed to the partner. Participants were assigned to
diVerent interviewers to conduct their AAI and MAI interviews; in addition,
diVerent interviewers were assigned to each partner of a husband-wife pair.
Altogether, we conducted 47 Adult Attachment Interviews (24 wives and
23 husbands) and 44 Marital Attachment Interviews (24 wives and 20 husbands). There were 44 subjects for whom information was available to compare adult attachment and marital attachment classiWcation (24 wives and
20 husbands). Of the 23 possible couples for whom we obtained both husband and wife data, four couples were excluded because one of the partners
received a Cannot Classify rating on the AAI. In one of these four couples,
one partner also received a Cannot Classify rating on the MAI. Thus, there
were 19 couples for whom information was available to compare spouses
classiWcations on adult attachment and marital attachment ratings.

226

DICKSTEIN

All interviews were audiotaped for subsequent verbatim transcription,


which were then used to make classiWcation judgments. Prior to scoring, all
interviews were re-labeled with a code that was independent of subject identiWers so that raters were blind to family identity. All adult attachment and
marital attachment interviews were scored by at least one of two raters, both
of whom participated in a 2-week adult attachment interview training institute, and both of whom achieved reliability with a senior institute leader on
adult attachment scoring (exact agreement > 80%). The two reliable AAI
coders achieved reliability with each other on the MAI (81% exact agreement; kappa = .71).
First, we found that the distribution of MAI primary classiWcations was
similar to the standard norms for AAI classiWcations (van IJzendoorn &
Bakermans-Krannenburg, 1996), suggesting that the MAI taps into a working model system that is similar to the AAI, such that the information
obtained via the MAI is considered to be attachment-relevant. (See Table
9.1 for these results). Second, 61% of subjects in this study were classiWed
the same with respect to adult and marital attachment working models
(marginal distributions indicate 30% concordance based on chance). This
suggests that working models regarding early childhood experiences are
powerful, yet not fully explanatory, mechanisms with respect to attachment
within marital relationships, and provides evidence that multiple working
models may be formed within diVerent important relationship domains
(Bretherton, 1999).
BrieXy, it may be that marital attachment working models are diVerentiated from adult attachment working models such that evidence is provided
for secure marital attachment despite adult attachment insecurity. This would
involve maintaining discrepant working models regarding two relationship
domains. In these cases where discordant working models are maintained, one
would infer that construction of current relationships has little eVect on the
construction of past family relationships. Considering the case where marital
TABLE 9.1
Distribution of AAI and MAI Scores

AAI (n = 47)
MAI (n = 44)
AAI Base Rates*

Secure
n (%)

Dismissing
n (%)

Preoccupied
n (%)

Cant Classify
n (%)

Unresolved
n (%)

25 (53)
25 (57)
(58)

9 (19)
9 (21)
(24)

9 (19)
9 (21)
(18)

4 (9)
1 (2)
(n/a)

13 (28)
8 (18)
(19)

*From van IJzendoorn and Bakermans-Kranenburg (1996).

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

227

and adult attachment classiWcations are concordant, (in some cases) it may be
that a current secure marital working model has aVected the working model
regarding past events such that it gets re-worked. Although the events of the
past remain the same, a secure marital working model may provide (or reXect)
the context within which the past events are reconstructed in a more secure
organization.
We also found that marital attachment security was signiWcantly related to
family functioning. Further, our data provide at least preliminary suggestion
that marital attachment security may be associated (possibly in a protective
manner) with couple and family relationship well-being, both for wives and
husbands. Of course, our data do not address the directionality of these
eVects. Perhaps representations aVect appraisal, but it is equally reasonable
that appraisal (the extent to which each partner feels satisWed with the relationship and/or rates the family unit as well functioning) is one basis for the
construction of marital representations. In general, we found that marital
attachment, in contrast to adult attachment, is a more proximal indicator of
these important family factors. This makes sense in that marital attachment
is, in fact, a model of a current relationship that shares the same context with
other current aspects of family life.
Implications and Conclusions
Marital Attachment Construct. Areas of recent debate include the
extent to which (a) unique working models (as revealed through narrative
description) are developed for each signiWcant relationship partner; (b) each
of these multiple working models is a dynamic construction, with the possibility that (c) one constructed working model can aVect other working models. On the one hand, it is possible that individuals hold distinct types of
working models for diVerent relationship partners this generalizes to having possible lack of correspondence between adult attachment (with family of
origin) and marital attachment (with adult partner). On the other, the cognitive-aVective processes in play when constructing marital attachment working models may aVect the ongoing construction of past relationships, behavior with parents, and behavior with children. We are particularly interested in
the extent to which the marital relationship also has an important potential
restorative function in adults with insecure attachment histories, which may
promote the development of secure infant-parent attachment relationships in
the next generation. More work is necessary to determine the extent to which
marital attachment may be a protective mechanism by which adult attachment insecurity is shielded from the next generation.

228

DICKSTEIN

Further, we need to better clarify the properties of marital attachment. For


example, it would be important to determine whether marital attachment is
a relatively stable phenomenon (like adult attachment security), and the types
of circumstances that may be associated with changes in attachment classiWcation. A related question is whether marital attachment security remains
stable during the transition to parenthood, which is known to be a vulnerable time marked by decreases in marital satisfaction and stresses to the family
system. Further, in the context of secure (or insecure) marital attachment, one
might evaluate whether negative eVects of the transition to parenthood on
marital satisfaction and family functioning are buVered (or exaggerated).
Some of these issues are directly addressed in a study that was conducted
subsequent to this pilot study (data for which are currently being prepared for
publication). In the Family Relationships Study we assessed 120 couples during the third trimester of pregnancy, conducting AAI and MAI interviews
with each partner (as part of a larger study protocol). We followed up with
families when the target child was 4 months of age to conduct an interview to
assess quality of family functioning (using the McMaster Structured Interview of Family Functioning) and a Birth Narrative Interview (coded with the
Family Narrative Consortium coding system; Fiese et al., 1999) to examine
the couples co-constructed story about their experiences during the transition to parenthood, and their perceptions about how the child has been integrated into the family. In addition, when the child was 12 months of age, we
repeated the MAI interview with mothers to assess longitudinal properties of
the interview across the transition to parenthood. These data should yield
informative insights about narrative construction across family sub-systems
and over time.
Use of Narrative Methodology for Understanding Marital Relationships. An important factor to consider when utilizing narrative methodol-

ogy to understand relationship processes is the properties of the storytelling


situation. That is, in our research, similar to most research on adult attachment, individuals produce marital attachment narratives without their partners being present. The classiWcation of attachment (in)security is based on
the individuals narrative qualities with respect to the relationship. It would
be interesting to determine if similar attachment-relevant properties could be
coded when narratives are produced by a couple. We may gain important
information about marital attachment process by examining individual narrative-based perspectives compared to those put forth by a couple as they produce the narrative conjointly. In this way, we may be able to better elucidate
the mechanisms by which individuals working models of attachment are

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

229

linked with relationship experiences and interactions. That is, we may be able
to more closely and directly examine the impact of discordant individual
models on relationship functioning.
Other well-established narrative-based scoring methodologies, such as the
Family Narrative Consortium system (Fiese et al., 1999), may be applied to
jointly (or individually) constructed marital attachment narratives to not
only yield information about the coherence and organization of the content,
but to shed light on narrative interaction and relationship beliefs. In a related
vein, marital narratives have been examined outside the attachment perspective. For example, Gottman and colleagues (e.g., Buehlman, Gottman,
& Katz, 1992) use an oral history interview technique to elicit the couples
co-constructed narrative about the course of their relationship over time to
broadly assess aVective and intimacy reports of the relationship (coding both
content and process variables). They found that one dimension distilled from
these interviews predicted the couples divorce and separation. These results
are explained within the framework of physiological reactivity, and help to
elucidate the importance of aVective processing mechanisms within marital
relationships for the well-being of individual partners as well as the health and
stability of the marriage.
Alternatively, VeroV and colleagues (e.g., VeroV, Sutherland, Chadiha, &
Ortega, 1993) apply symbolic interactionist theory using a reality construction perspective. They evaluate themes derived from marital narratives with
respect to how couples arrive at consensual meanings about their relationship
to predict marital satisfaction and individual well-being. Their results suggest
that quality of narrative construction in fact corresponds with quality of relationship experiences. In addition, they found that couples who are able to
describe and integrate relationship experiences over time (or to reconstruct
these experiences into a current relationship awareness) report better quality
relationships. This theoretical perspective seems to compliment attachment
theory as related to marriage; this constuctivist approach places emphasis on
the couple-ness aspects of the narrative, whereas the attachment approach
focuses on the individuals construction of the relationship. Further empirical
examination of narrative from these distinct theoretical approaches would
likely yield exciting and important information for the Weld.
Clinical Implications. There may be an important place for marital
attachment narrative methodology in preventive-intervention contexts. For
example, the marital attachment narrative may be an ideal evaluation tool
used at the start of marital treatment to assess each partners expectations of
and history with adult intimate relationships; aVective and cognitive con-

230

DICKSTEIN

structions of this and other important relationships; and unique perspective


on the role or meaning of this particular relationship for their own adult
development. Couples may be encouraged to develop a relationship working
model that overtly incorporates or addresses the unique aspects of each partners individual model of the relationship. Thus, joint re-construction of
relationship models to yield more integrated understanding of relationship
functioning may be a goal of treatment.
Taken together, the MAI provides evidence that the assessment of relationship representations by use of narrative methodology can be generalized to diVerent relationship domains. It provides another window by which
to explore intergenerational processes related to how individuals form relationships with others. Further, it builds on the tradition of other narrative
methodologies that examine whole family outcomes, not only parent-child
relationship qualities (e.g., Fiese et al., 1999). In sum, the MAI expands the
utility of narrative strategies to examine a broader range of family issues
beyond the parent-child dyad that currently comprises the vast majority of
narrative-based attachment research.
REFERENCES
Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M. C., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of attachment: A
psychological study of the strange situation. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Barnett, P. A., & Gotlib, I. H. (1988). Psychosocial functioning and depression: Distinguishing
among antecedents, concomitants, and consequences. Psychological Bulletin, 104, 97126.
Benoit, D., Vidovic, D., & Roman, J. (1991, April). Transmission of attachment across three generations. Paper presented at the meeting of the Society for Research in Child Development,
Seattle, WA.
Benoit, D., Zeanah, C., & Barton, M. (1989). Maternal attachment disturbances in failure to
thrive. Infant Mental Health Journal, 10, 185202.
Benoit, D., Zeanah, C. H., Boucher, C., & Minde, K. (1989). Sleep disorders in early childhood: Association with insecure maternal attachment. Journal of the American Academy of
Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 31(1), 8693.
Bowlby, J. (1982). Attachment and loss (Vol. 1). Attachment. New York: Basic. (Original work
published 1969)
Bretherton, I. (1985). Attachment theory: Retrospect and prospect. In I. Bretherton &
E. Waters (Eds.), Growing points of attachment theory and research (Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Developent, 50 [Serial No. 209]), 335.
Bretherton, I. (1999). Updating the internal working model construct: Some reXections.
Attachment and Human Development, 1(3), 343357.
Buehlman, K. T., Gottman, J. M., & Katz, L. F. (1992). How a couple views their past predicts
their future: Predicting divorce form an oral history interview. Journal of Family Psychology,
5, 295318.
Cohn, D. A., Cowan, P. A., Cowan, C. P., & Pearson, J. L. (1992). Mothers and fathers work-

9.

M A R I TA L AT TAC H M E N T A N D FA M I LY F U N C T I O N I N G

231

ing models of childhood attachment relationships, parenting styles, and child behavior.
Development and Psychopathology, 4, 417431.
Cohn, D. A., Silver, D. H., Cowan, C. P., Cowan, P. A., & Pearson, J. (1992). Working models
of childhood attachment and couple relationships. Journal of Family Issues, 13, 432449.
Cowan, P. A., Cohn, D. A., Cowan, C. P., & Pearson, J. L. (1996). Parents attachment histories and childrens externalizing and internalizing behaviors: Exploring family systems models of linkage. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 64, 5363.
Crowell, J. A., & Feldman, S. (1989). Assessment of mothers working models of relationships:
Some clinical implications. Infant Mental Health Journal, 10, 173184.
Crowell, J. A., & Feldman, S. (1991). Mothers working models of attachment relationships
and mother and child behavior during separation and reunion. Developmental Psychology,
27, 597605.
Cummings, E. M., & Cicchetti, D. (1990). Toward a transactional model of relations between
attachment and depression. In M. T. Greenberg, D. Cicchetti, & E. M. Cummings (Eds.),
Attachment in the preschool years: Theory, research and intervention (pp. 339372). Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Dickstein, S., Seifer, R., St. Andre, M., & Schiller, M. (2001). Marital Attachment Inverview:
Adult Attachment Assessment of Marriage. Journal of Personal and Social Relationships,
18(5), 651672.
Eichberg, C. G. (1987, April). Quality of infant-parent attachment: Related to mothers representation of her own relationship history. Paper presented at the biennial meeting of the Society
for Research in Child Development, Baltimore, MD.
Epstein, N. B., Baldwin, L. M., & Bishop, D. S. (1983). The McMaster family assessment
device. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 9, 171180.
Epstein, N. B., Bishop, D. S., & Levin, S. (1978). The McMaster Model of Family Functioning. Journal of Marriage and Family Counseling, 4, 1931.
Fiese, B. H., SameroV, A. J., Grotevant, H. D., Wamboldt, F. S., Dickstein, S., & Fravel, D.
(1999). The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2, Serial
No. 257).
Fonagy, P., Steele, H., & Steele, M. (1991). Maternal repersentations of attachment during
pregnancy predict the organization of infant-mother attachment at one year of age. Child
Development, 62, 891905.
George, C., Kaplan, N., & Main, M. (1985). Adult attachment interview. Unpublished manuscript, University of California at Berkeley.
George, C., Kaplan, N., & Main, M. (1996). Adult attachment interview. Unpublished manuscript (3rd ed.), University of California at Berkeley.
Haft, W. L., & Slade, A. (1989). AVect attunement and maternal attachment: A pilot study.
Infant Mental Health Journal, 10, 157172.
Hazan, C., & Shaver, P. R. (1990). Love and work: An attachment-theoretical perspective.
Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 59, 270280.
Hooley, J. M., & Teasdale, J. D. (1989). Predictors of relapse in unipolar depressives:
Expressed emotion, marital distress, and perceived criticism. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 98, 229235.
Jacobson, N. S., Dobson, K., Fruzetti, A. E., Schmaling, K. B., & Salusky, S. (1991). Marital
therapy as a treatment for depression. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 59,
547557.

232

DICKSTEIN

Kobak, R. R., Cole, H. E., Ferenz-Gillies, R., & Flemming, W. S. (1993). Attachment and
emotion regulation during mother-teen problem solving: A control theory analysis. Child
Development, 64, 231245.
Kowalik, D. L., & Gotlib, I. H. (1987). Depression and marital interaction: Concordance
between intent and perception of communication. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 96,
127134.
Main, M., & Goldwyn, R. (1988). Adult attachment classiWcation system (version 3). Unpublished manuscript, University of California at Berkeley.
Main, M., & Goldwyn, R. (1994). An adult classiWcation and rating system. Unpublished manuscript, University of California, Berkeley. (Updated 1996)
Miller, I. W., Epstein, N. B., Bishop, D. S., & Keitner, G. I. (1985). The McMaster family
assessment device: Reliability and validity. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 11(4),
345356.
Owens, G., Crowell, J. A., Pan, H., Treboux, D., OConnor, E., & Waters, E. (1995). The
prototype hypothesis and the origins of attachment working models: Adult relationships
with parents and romantic partners. In E. Waters, B. E. Vaughn, G. Posada, & K. KondoIkemura (Eds.), Caregiving, cultural, and cognitive perspectives on secure-base behavior
and working models: New growing points of attachment theory and research. Monographs
of the Society for Research in Child Development, 60 (23, Serial No. 244).
Shaver, P., Hazan, C., & Bradshaw, D. (1988). Love as attachment: The integration of three
behavioral systems. In R. J. Stenberg, M. L. Barnes (Eds.), The psychology of love. New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Spanier, G. (1976). Measuring dyadic adjustment: New scales for assessing the quality of marriage and similar dyads. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 38, 1528.
van IJzendoorn, M. H. (1992). Intergenerational transmission of parenting: A review of studies in nonclinical populations. Developmental Review, 12, 7699.
van IJzendoorn, M. H., & Bakermans-Kranenburg, M. J. (1996). Adult Attachment Interview
classiWcations in mothers, fathers, adolescents, and clinical groups: A meta-analytic search
for normative data. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 64(1), 821.
VeroV, J., Sutherland, L., Chadiha, L. A., & Ortega, R. M. (1993). Predicting marital quality
with narrative assessments of marital experience. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 55,
326337.
Ward, M. J., Botyanski, N. C., Plunkett, S. W., & Carlson, E. A. (1991, April). The concurrent
and predictive validity of the AAI for adolescent mothers. Paper presented at the biennial meeting of the Society for Research in Child Development, Seattle, WA.
Waters, E., Vaughn, B. E., Posada, G., & Kondo-Ikemura, K. (1995). Caregiving, cultural,
and cognitive perspectives on secure-base behavior and working models: New growing
points of attachment theory and research. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child
Development, 60 (23, Serial No. 244).
Zeanah, C. H., & Emde, R. N. (1994). Attachment disorders in infancy and childhood. In
M. Rutter, L. Hersov, & E. Taylor (Eds.), Child and adolescent psychiatry: Modern approaches (pp. 490504). Oxford: Blackwell.

PA R T I V

Midlife: Parenting
and Narrative Socialization
Processes in the Family

10
Generativity and the
Narrative Ecology of Family Life
Dan P. McAdams
Northwestern University

Even the smallest family has many stories to tell. Two partners have a story
about how they met, how they came together in love, where their relationship
is headed for the future. They each have stories about their own families of
origin and how those families connect to and conXict with the nuclear family
they have established together. Their parents and siblings have their stories
about the relationship, too, about how, for instance, this is a match that was
deWnitely not made in heaven, about how this couple deWed the odds to create something spectacular, or settled into a predictable pattern of domestic
tedium. Add a child to this nuclear unit, and the narrative possibilities grow
even more, for now there is the story of that birth and development, of what
it means for the future as well as the past. And from the past come stories
passed down from one generation to the next, stories these two partners will
tell their child when she is old enough to appreciate them, stories that their
child may cherish as narrative keepsakes from the past or reject as boring,
irrelevant, or contrary to her own narrative sense of who she wants to be. She
will create her own stories, and borrow many others. Her siblings will do the
same, and their children; and on it goes.
Every family develops within a complex and dynamic ecology of narrative. Stories are created, revised, retold, and forgotten. DiVerent storytellers
occupy diVerent narrative niches. Grandfather rarely tells a story, but when
he does you know it will have a moral lesson. Aunt Vicky dishes the gossip,
but never in the presence of the men and only during peaceful and pleasant
times. Certain people are good listeners, and they get to hear many diVerent
tales. Others specialize as audiences for particular genres and performances.
For example, JeV loves to hear his fathers war stories, but little else really
interests him. The family operates according to implicit rules of storytelling,
regarding what should be said, when, where, how except, of course, when
235

236

M CA D A M S

the rules are broken, which is not infrequent. In this uneven and shifting
ecology, stories may function in diVerent ways for diVerent tellers and listeners. In the opening chapter of this volume, Pratt and Fiese identify three
especially important functions of family storytelling. They argue that stories
told in and about families may provide (a) opportunities to act through
which family members learn to become competent narrators, (b) moral messages and lessons aimed to instill values and promote socialization in the
family, and (c) narrative material for the formulation of personal and family
identity.
As parents foster storytelling in their children, impart moral messages
through stories, and use narrative to promote identity development for the
next generation, they express the universal psychosocial urge that Erikson
(1950) named generativity. Generativity is an adults concern for and commitment to promoting the well-being of future generations through parenting, teaching, mentoring, and engaging in a wide range of endeavors aimed at
leaving a positive legacy for the future (McAdams & de St. Aubin, 1992). The
past decade has witnessed an upsurge of empirical research on the concept
of generativity (see McAdams, 2001a; McAdams & de St. Aubin, 1998, for
reviews). Storytelling is one important aspect of generativity, especially in
families (Kotre, 1999, 2004; Pratt, Norris, Arnold, & Filyer, 1999). In their
eVorts to provide guidance and care for the next generation, parents read
nursery rhymes and fairy tales to their children, tell their children cautionary
tales from their own lives, help their children tell their own stories about personal experience, pass on valued family stories from the past, and engage in a
wide range of other narrative practices that serve, among other things, as
manifestations of generativity.
My aim in this chapter is to explore the narrative ecology of family life
from the standpoint of current research and theorizing on generativity. I Wrst
consider the role of narrative in the human life course and then move to the
topics of generative lives and generativity in the family. In the last part of the
chapter, I introduce new data on family stories told by a sample of midlife
adults, half of whom were chosen for interviews based on their extremely
high scores on measures of generativity and half of whom because they scored
very low on generativity. My conceptual integration and analysis of the new
data on family stories and generativity will identify a particular genre of family stories that appears to contain considerable generative power. These especially generative family stories are often structured as tales of suVering and
growth against a backdrop of human kindness. Although generativity can be
expressed in many diVerent narrative forms, family stories that emplot episodes or periods of profound human suVering which ultimately result in

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

237

growth and/or redemption appear to carry strong messages of generativity


that are passed down from one generation to the next.

NARRATIVE AND THE LIFE COURSE

A story is an account of how human or human-like agents act upon their


desires and beliefs over time (Bruner, 1990). As such, a story typically contains a setting within which action makes sense, an actor whose intentions are
translated into goal-directed behavior, and an ending through which the
emotional tension created by the storys events is resolved or dismissed. In
order to be a storyteller, therefore, an organism must Wrst have an understanding of human intention organized in time (McAdams, 2001b). Research
suggests that by the age of 1216 months, human children have typically
attained a tacit understanding of human intentionality. For example, Tomasello (2000) reports that 16-month-old infants will imitate complex behavioral sequences exhibited by other human beings only when those activities
appear intentional. With the emergence of what Dennett (1987) calls the
intentional stance, children in the second year of life can experience the world
from the subjective standpoint of an intentional causal agent. In other words,
the young child develops a sense of the self as an active, intentional, agentic
I a subjective source from which desires Xow and action springs (Kagan,
1994). By the age of 2, I implicitly know that I exist as an intentional being,
that I have my own thoughts and feelings and that I can act upon them, that
what happens to me is my experience. According to Howe and Courage
(1997), 2-year old children are able to collect and personalize episodic memories as things that I did, building up an autobiographical memory store of
little stories about what has transpired in my life.
Childrens understanding of intentionality and narrative expands further
in the preschool years as they consolidate a theory of mind (Wellman, 1993).
Theory of mind refers to the ability of normal children to attribute mental
states (such as desires, beliefs, and intentions) to themselves and to other people as a way of making sense of and predicting behavior. In the third and
fourth years of life, children come to understand that people (like themselves)
formulate desires and beliefs in their minds and then translate those mentalistic phenomena into motivated action. Interpreting the actions of others
(and oneself ) in terms of their predisposing desires and beliefs is a form of
mind reading, according to Baron-Cohen (1995), a competency that is essential for eVective social interaction. Such a competency is also essential for storytelling and story comprehension, for it is virtually impossible to narrate

238

M CA D A M S

human experience in a meaningful way without attributing desires, beliefs,


and intentions to human actors, and linking their behaviors to these mental
states. As children consolidate theory of mind, they develop a basic understanding of what a story must have in order to be a story. Thus, 5-year-olds
typically know that stories are set in a particular time and place and involve
characters that act on their desires and beliefs over time, that characters react
to each other to build a plot in the narrative, that these motivated actions and
interactions create suspense or curiosity in the listener, and that the actions
and the attendant suspense should be resolved by a satisfying story ending.
If a story does not conform to these narrative conventions, children may Wnd
it confusing or diYcult to remember, or they may recall it later with a more
conventional (storylike) structure than it originally had (Mandler, 1984).
Storytelling and narrative understanding develop in a social context. Parents typically encourage children to put their experiences into narrative form
as soon as children are verbally able to do so (Fivush & Kuebli, 1997). Early
on, parents may take the lead in stimulating the childs recollection and telling of the past by reminding the child of recent events, such as this mornings
breakfast or yesterdays visit to the doctor. Taking advantage of this initial
conversational scaVolding provided by adults, the young child soon begins to
take more initiative in sharing personal stories. In conversations with adults
about personal memories, young children become acquainted with the narrative structures through which events are typically discussed by people in their
world. Cultural diVerences may loom large in family storytelling with young
children (Wang, this volume). For example, Chinese parents appear to be
more likely to utilize early storytelling as opportunities for teaching lessons to
the child, whereas North American families are likely to emphasize instead
the childs creativity and autonomy in the stories (Miller, Wiley, Fung, &
Liang, 1997). Furthermore, cultural factors may prioritize diVerent roles in
narrative experience. Fung, Miller, and Lin (this volume) suggest that relative
to North American families, Taiwanese parents tend to see the childs role as
that of the active and reXective listener, rather than the teller of the tale.
Rooted in the Confucian value of Wlial piety, one must Wrst be a good listener
of stories told by others, especially by other authority Wgures, before one is
accorded the status of storyteller.
Although children are able to narrate their own experience in ways that
conform to culturally established scripts, it is not until adolescence, some
have argued, that individuals begin to see their own lives as large, evolving
stories (Habermas & Bluck, 2000; McAdams, 1985). As children move
through the elementary-school years, they gather knowledge about what
typically happens in peoples lives across the full life course. In middle-class

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

239

American society, for example, they learn that people go to school through
their teenage years, that they are likely to leave home in late adolescence for
further schooling or work, that they get married and usually have children
sometime after that, that people have jobs or careers that take them well into
middle age, that retirement occurs after that, and so on. This kind of biographical coherence, strongly shaped by cultural norms (Denzin, 1989), must
be in place in a childs mind before he or she can begin to understand his or
her own life as an integrated story, with beginning, middle, and (anticipated)
ending (Habermas & Bluck, 2000). Furthermore, the individual must be able
to explain current events in life in terms of previous events, what Habermas
and Bluck call causal coherence. Thus, a 16-year-old girl may explain her reluctance to respond to boys romantic overtures in terms of a failed romance in
junior high school. She is able to link in narrative two disparate events or
chapters in her life story in such a way as to suggest that the previous event
explains or provides the origin for the later event. Beyond that, she may be
able to extract a general theme or lesson from her narration, a propensity that
Habermas and Bluck call thematic coherence. First-person autobiographical
accounts reveal greater levels of causal and thematic coherence as individuals
move through adolescence and into young adulthood.
The cognitive emergence of causal and thematic coherence in adolescence
dovetails with social and emotional changes occurring at this time to usher in
an appreciation for and concern with Wnding or making a story out of ones
life. And these developments dovetail with the emergence of ego identity as a
central developmental task for young people in their teens and 20s living in
modern societies (Arnett, 2000; Erikson, 1959). In my own theoretical and
empirical work, I have argued that the identity challenge of modern life is a
narrative challenge (McAdams, 1985, 1993, 2001b). The central task in
identity, beginning in late adolescence and young adulthood, is to construct
a life story for oneself that makes sense of who one was, is, and will be within
the social, economic, and ideological world in which a person lives. A life
story is an internalized and evolving narrative of the self that reconstructs the
past and anticipates the future in such a way as to provide ones life with some
degree of unity and purpose. Life stories are based on biographical facts, but
they go considerably beyond the facts as people selectively appropriate aspects
of their experience and imaginatively construe both past and future to construct stories that make sense to them and to their audiences, that vivify and
integrate life and make it more-or-less meaningful. Life stories are psychosocial constructions, co-authored by the person himself or herself and the cultural context within which that persons life is embedded and given meaning.
As such, individual life stories reXect cultural values and norms, including

240

M CA D A M S

assumptions about gender, race, and class (Rosenwald & Ochberg, 1992;
Stewart, 1994). Life stories are intelligible within a particular cultural frame,
and yet they also diVerentiate one person from the next. Individual diVerences
in peoples internalized and evolving self-narratives constitute diVerences in
personality between people that are as important as, though very diVerent
from, diVerences in dispositional personality traits (McAdams, 1996).
Identity stories continue to develop well into and through the midlife
years. Some research suggests that the move from early to middle adulthood
may be occasioned by an increase in life-narrative themes concerned with
generativity (McAdams, 2001a; McAdams, de St. Aubin, & Logan, 1993).
Many life stories constructed by middle-aged adults contain aspects of what
McAdams (1985) called a generativity script that is, an outline or plan
regarding how the individual hopes to leave a positive legacy for the next generation. In an existential sense, a generativity script can provide a life story
with a satisfying ending, by suggesting that even though the protagonist of
the story will someday die, he or she will leave behind something worthy (see
also Becker, 1973; Kotre, 1984). Generativity scripts, therefore, provide life
narratives with anticipated endings that in themselves are suggestive of new
beginnings and of the continuity of life from one generation to the next. It is
this sense of giving birth to (generating life) and working to assure continuity from one generation to the next that is at the heart of the human experience of generativity.

GENERATIVITY IN ADULTHOOD

Both within and outside of the family, modern adults Wnd many opportunities to express generativity. Kotre (1984) identiWed four forms of generative
expressions: biological (conceiving children, giving birth), parental (caring
for oVspring, providing guidance and discipline), technical (teaching skills,
modeling behaviors), and cultural (passing on meaning systems, creating new
knowledge for the next generation) generativity. The various forms of generativity are often expressed within particular social roles and domains, in family or work roles, for example, in political and civic domains, even in leisuretime pursuits (MacDermid, Franz, & de Reus, 1998). Within and across
these diVerent role domains, furthermore, generativity can manifest itself in
activities aimed at generating or producing new things and people, in caring
for people and maintaining those most valued aspects of society, and in eventually oVering up or letting go of those people and things that have been generated and cared for (McAdams & de St. Aubin, 1992). The task of letting go,

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

241

of granting autonomy to ones biological, parental, technical, or societal progeny, is one of the great challenges of generativity, as many parents know.
Erikson contended that generativity versus stagnation is the psychosocial
centerpiece of the seventh stage in his grand developmental scheme, the stage
associated with midlife. Research provides some qualiWed support for Eriksons developmental argument. For example, cross-sectional studies, including a nationwide survey of over 3,000 adult U.S. citizens, suggest that generativity concerns and behaviors may peak in the midlife years (e.g., Keyes &
RyV, 1998; McAdams et al., 1993; Peterson & Stewart, 1990; Rossi, 2001).
Longitudinal data, however, provide more of a mixed picture, with at least
one study showing no relation between age and generativity in the adult years
(Whitbourne, Zuschlag, Elliot, & Waterman, 1992) and another showing a
smooth stage sequence in accord with Eriksons theory (Vaillant & Milofsky,
1980). Furthermore, the developmental course of generativity is strongly
and sometimes unpredictably shaped by social and cultural forces (Cohler,
Hostetler, & Boxer, 1998). DiVerent aspects of generativity may ebb and Xow
at diVerent times over the life course. For example, Stewart and Vandewater
(1998) have shown that the motivation to be generative may be very high in
young adulthood, but that people may not typically be able to fully actualize
their generative desires until they reach the midlife years. The conclusion to
be drawn, then, from the research on the relation between age and generativity is that generativity may indeed be an especially salient psychosocial issue
in midlife, but that generative concerns and issues can arise at virtually any
point in the adult life course (McAdams, 2001a).
Adults diVer from each other with respect to the strength and scope of
their generativity. In recent years, researchers have developed self-report, behavioral, Q-sort, interview-based, and projective measures of individual differences in adult generativity (e.g., Bradley, 1997; McAdams & de St. Aubin,
1992; Peterson & Klohnen, 1995; Stewart, Franz, & Layton, 1988). High
scores on generativity measures are positively associated with a wide range of
prosocial behaviors and societal engagements. For example, research has
shown that generativity is positively associated with prosocial personality
characteristics (Peterson & Klohnen, 1995), strong social support networks
(Hart, McAdams, Hirsch, & Bauer, 2001), interest in political issues and
involvement in the political process (Cole & Stewart, 1996; Hart et al., 2001;
Peterson & Duncan, 1999; Peterson, Smirles, & Wentworth, 1997), church
attendance and involvement in religious/spiritual activities (Dillon & Wink,
2004; Hart et al., 2001; Rossi, 2001), and community voluntarism (Rossi,
2001). Self-report generativity is also positively associated with ratings of subjective mental health and life satisfaction (Ackerman, ZuroV, & Moscowitz,

242

M CA D A M S

2000; de St. Aubin & McAdams, 1995; Grossbaum & Bates, 2002; Keyes &
RyV, 1998; Snarey, 1993; Vandewater, Ostrove, & Stewart, 1997). With
respect to demographic considerations, women occasionally score higher
than men on generativity, though the diVerence is not always statistically signiWcant, and more highly educated individuals tend to score slightly higher
than those with low levels of education (Kim & Youn, 2002; McAdams &
de St. Aubin, 1992; Rossi, 2001).
Linking generativity and life narrative (identity), McAdams and his colleagues have compared the life stories of highly generative and less generative
midlife adults in two intensive, interview-based studies (McAdams, Diamond, de St. Aubin, & MansWeld, 1997; McAdams, Reynolds, Lewis, Patten,
& Bowman, 2001). They have identiWed a set of themes that appear signiWcantly more often in the life stories of highly generative adults compared to
their less generative peers. Among these themes is an early sense of being special or advantaged compared to others, a sensitivity to the suVering of other
people, ideological continuity and certitude across the life course, and the
transformation of bad scenes into good outcomes. The last theme is called a
redemption sequence in life narrative, wherein a bad scene is redeemed, salvaged, or made better by that which follows. Generativity is strongly associated with employing the rhetoric of redemption, reform, and recovery in the
identity stories people construct to make sense of their lives (Maruna, 2001;
McAdams & Bowman, 2001). It is interesting to note that the very concept
of generativity itself entails an implicit message of human redemption. The
hard work that the highly generative adult displays in his or her eVorts to promote the well-being of future generations may entail a good deal of pain,
suVering, and sacriWce. Scenes of sacriWce and hard work, therefore, may lead
to scenes of blessing and reward. Indeed, generativity is often about progress,
improvement, transforming the bad into good. In life stories, in folk tales, in
modern Wction and cinema, the discourse of generativity is full of stories
about people suVering and making sacriWces in order to make a better world
for generations to come (de St. Aubin, McAdams, & Kim, 2004).

GENERATIVITY IN THE FAMILY

The prototype of generativity is probably the bearing and raising of children.


Ones own biological child is literally an extension of the self, biologically
generated in ones own image, Xesh of ones Xesh, nurtured, cared for, mentored, educated, disciplined, and eventually granted some degree of autonomy to carry forward life for generations to come. It is in the bearing and

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

243

raising of children that many adults confront their biggest challenges, fulWllments, and frustrations in generativity. Parenting, therefore, can be seen as a
primary instantiation of generativity itself, and the family, generativitys most
sacred domain.
Yet many observers of contemporary family life, especially family life in
America, contend that something has gone terribly awry in the realm of generativity. Myers (2000) points to a wide range of social indices suggesting that
while Americans material well-being has increased markedly since 1960, the
well-being of families and children has steadily declined. In the United States
since 1960, Myers observes, the divorce rate has roughly doubled, teen suicide rates have tripled, recorded violent crime has quadrupled, the percent of
babies born to unmarried parents has sextupled, and clinical depression has
soared to ten times the preWorld-War-II level. Add to this picture increases
in childhood poverty and child abuse, and the idealized story of a nurturing
American family where generative adults provide care and wisdom for their
cherished oVspring may prove to be a badly distorted myth. In keeping with
Myers view, Twenge (2000) has documented an alarming increase in childrens anxiety scores since the 1950s. Casting an even broader net that encompasses both family and civic life, Putnam (2000) assembles an awesome
array of statistical Wndings to show that social capital of all kinds from
quality family time to charitable givinghas dropped precipitously since the
late 1950s. The title of Putnams (2000) book Bowling Alone leaves us
with a starkly nongenerative image of American life.
These kinds of societal critiques, however, have not gone unchallenged. In
her book, Caring and Doing for Others, Rossi (2001) reports data from a
nationwide survey of Americans family and civic life to suggest that while
many of the problems that Putnam and Myers observe cannot be denied,
there is ample sociological evidence to argue for impressive strength in the
American family and the continued power and prevalence of prosocial and
generative activities among Americans, both in the family and in wider societal contexts. Along with Putney and Bengston (2001), Rossi shows that
despite the problems facing contemporary American families, intergenerational attachments remain very strong. Compared to the 1950s, American
families are structured in a wide assortment of nontraditional ways today.
Yet adults care and provide for children in ways that often defy the negative
expectations that many social critics put forth. Grandparents, baby sitters,
child-care workers, Wctive kin, same-sex partners, and a host of other nontraditional caregivers supplement parenting done by mothers and fathers in
the many diVerent kinds of family structures that prevail on the American
scene today (e.g., Hill, 1997).

244

M CA D A M S

While Myers and Putnam review a large corpus of sociological data, Rossi
(2001) provides data of her own from her nationwide study showing that
generativity is a powerful force in caring and doing for others within the
family. Individual diVerences in adults self-reported concern about generativity were strongly predictive of the extent to which both men and women
involved themselves in family care. Generativity was positively associated
with providing both monetary and social/emotional support for family members. Among midlife adults, support may be provided for those of both the
younger generation (children) and the older (grandparents). In a longitudinal
study of midlife women, Peterson (2002) shows that women who attained a
generative stance in life by the age of 43 reported greater investment 10 years
later in intergenerational roles, such as daughter and mother. Highly generative women in Petersons study reported less subjective burden in caring for
elderly parents and more knowledge about community elder care programs.
Peterson and Klohnen (1995) found that highly generative women who were
also mothers invested considerably more energy and commitment in parenting and showed an expanded radius of care (p. 20) compared with less generative mothers.
Generative parents actively promote their childrens education. In a largescale study of parents whose children were enrolled in a major metropolitan
school system in the United States, Nakagawa (1991) found that mothers and
fathers with high scores on a self-report measure of generativity tended to
be more involved in their childrens schooling than parents scoring lower.
Parents scoring high on generativity tended to help their children with their
homework more, showed higher levels of attendance at school functions, and
evidenced greater knowledge about what their children were learning and
doing in school, compared to parents scoring lower in generativity. In another
study of African-American and Euro-American parents, researchers found
that high levels of generativity were associated with valuing trust and communication with ones children and viewing parenting as an opportunity to
pass on values and wisdom to the next generation (Hart et al., 2001). Although Black and White parents showed some diVerences in their descriptions of their own approaches to parenting, generativity predicted the same
parenting qualities for both groups.
Two recent studies suggest that generativity may be associated with an authoritative parenting style. Peterson and colleagues (1997) found that middleaged parents of college students expressed more authoritative attitudes about
parenting if they were high in generativity. Pratt, Danso, Arnold, Norris, and
Filyer (2001) found that generativity among mothers of teenaged children
predicted authoritative styles, but generativity among fathers was unrelated to

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

245

parenting style. Authoritative parenting combines an emphasis on high standards and discipline with a warm, child-centered, and caring approach to
raising children. Authoritative parents provide their children with a good deal
of structure and guidance, but they also give their children a strong voice
in making family decisions. In studies done primarily in the United States,
authoritative patterns of parenting have been consistently associated with
higher levels of moral development and greater levels of self-esteem (Maccoby
& Martin, 1983). In Peterson et al. (1997), authoritative parenting predicted
attitudinal similarity between parents and college-age children, and it was
negatively associated with parent/child conXict.
The role of generativity in family life can sometimes manifest itself in
surprising ways. For example, Kay (1998) conducted intensive interviews of
male Holocaust survivors to examine the ways in which they expressed generativity in their families. He found that these survivors, now in their 70s and
older, scored signiWcantly higher on self-report measures of generativity compared to a demographically matched sample of men. However, the survivors
viewed their generative contributions almost exclusively in terms of biological reproduction and providing Wnancial assistance for their children. They
were reluctant, by contrast, to form close emotional bonds with their families,
and they rarely felt comfortable sharing stories of their lives or passing down
family culture and belief systems to the next generation. Kay suggests that
these mens histories were so painful and devastating that they could not or
would not revisit their past in the presence of their family members. In a
related vein, Kotre and Kotre (1998) provide case examples of generativity
expressed in the refusal to pass on traditions or behaviors from the past. Kotre
and Kotre argue that in some instances generativity is best expressed by taking the role of an intergenerational buVer within the family. For example, in
a family with a history of abuse or addiction, a parent can decide that the
suVering ends here. By actively blocking the transmission of destructive
practices or beliefs from one generation to the next, a person can create a
more generative family environment and provide new hope for future growth
and the generation of more beneWcent meaning systems in the family.

FAMILY STORIES AND GENERATIVITY

In the famous Wrst sentence of Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy (1995, p. 1)


wrote: All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family
is unhappy in its own way. Tolstoys assertion poses signiWcant problems for
the concept of family stories, as the literary critic Morson (1995) astutely

246

M CA D A M S

points out. For Tolstoy, unhappy families deviate from the expected domestic
script of the 19th-century Russian elite. Anna leaves her husband to follow a
passionate but destructive aVair with Vronsky, resulting in overwhelming
public shame and her eventual suicide. Hers is a beautifully tragic story to
tell, a story about how a womans passion and narcissism leave her ostracized
from high society and eventually ruin her family. Writes Morson, romantic
destiny, the sense that one has been chosen for a special and tragic story, feeds
[Annas] narcissism (p. 836). By contrast, Levin and Kitty represent the
happy family, whose members Wnd their happiness in the mundane and
unstoried details of everyday life. In a deeply generative scene on the books
last page, Levin concludes that he now understands the meaning of his life,
minutes after gazing upon the face of his newborn son. For Tolstoy, happy
family life
is lived in the small and ordinary details. It is prosaic and undramatic and is
lived best when there is no story to tell. The reason that all happy families
resemble each other whereas each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way is
that unhappy families, like unhappy lives, are dramatic; they have a story and
each story is diVerent. But happy families and happy lives, Wlled with undramatic incidents, do not make a good story; and it is in this sense that they all
resemble each other. (Morson, 1995, p. 835)

Morsons reading of Tolstoy Wts nicely with a sentiment expressed by


Bruner (1990), who argues that good stories involve some kind of deviation
from a canonical cultural pattern (p. 50). In other words, stories are told
when events occur that are unexpected and discrepant from the mundane and
predictable patterns of everyday social life. I could conceivably give you an
account of the breakfast I ate yesterday morning, how I even managed to read
the newspaper as I ate my cereal, but you would not want to hear it and I
would not want to tell it because nothing especially interesting or unusual
happened yesterday morning. In a sense, there is no story to tell. Bruner suggests that life becomes tellable only when it deviates from the mundane and
predictable. Often such a move involves risk, danger, or suVering. Serious
threats, dangerous circumstances, and human suVering are the stuV of good
stories; they motivate a teller to tell and a listener to listen, they build suspense and curiosity, they promise a resolution in the end.
With all due respect to Tolstoy, however, research on family stories seems
to assume that even happy families have their own, unique, and maybe even
dramatic stories to tell. Indeed, Tolstoy himself devotes considerable space in
his novel to telling the happy story of Levin and Kitty, even if it is rather less
exciting that Annas and Vronskys tragic fate. Deviations from the canonical

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

247

cultural patterns could conceivably be positive as well as negative. When it


comes to family stories, perhaps unexpected uplifts and high points might
compete with danger for narrative credibility. Light-hearted tales of funny or
frivolous times may make good material for the stories families tell. These
tellings may be embedded in family rituals such as dinnertime, reunions,
favorite pastimes, religious gatherings, and the like (Riess, 1989). It seems
likely, furthermore, that the canonical nature of some family practices might
enhance the meaningfulness of certain kinds of stories stories aimed to
comfort and reassure, for example, or those told again and again to aYrm
some aspect of family identity. As Pratt and Fiese (this volume) point out,
families are often their own audiences for their own stories, setting expectations for what kinds of stories should be told, when, and by whom. Each familys narrative ecology, therefore, may aYrm its own literary tradition, be it
one Wlled with happy stories or one tending toward the tragic or ironic.
The term family stories would seem to cover two somewhat diVerent kinds
of phenomena. First, there are those stories that are told by family members
in the presence of other family members. These kinds of family stories, which
may or may not themselves be about family events, may oVer opportunities
for individuals in the family to connect across generations and create a sense
of family history and identity (Martin, Hagestad, & Diedrick, 1988). Family
story tellings may be interpreted from the standpoints of practice (How was
the story told? What was the performance like?) and representation (What was
the story about? What does the story reveal about family beliefs?) (Fiese et al.,
1999). Researchers have analyzed such performances for variables like narrative coherence, interaction patterns, and relationship beliefs (Fiese et al.,
1999). They have also examined the main themes that these stories may contain. For example, researchers have examined the content of stories that parents tell about their own childhood to their young children (Fiese, Hooker,
Kotary, Schwagler, & Rimmer, 1995). The research shows that when telling
stories to their infants parents tend to emphasize aYliative themes, whereas
their stories for preschool children tend to emphasize achievement. In addition, mothers tend to tell stories with more aYliative themes overall, while
fathers tell stories with more achievement themes (Fiese et al., 1995).
Second, there are stories that are told about family. The audiences for these
stories may or may not be other family members. According to Mackey, Arnold, and Pratt (2001), stories about their families dominate mid-adolescents
descriptions of key turning points in their lives. Oppenheim, Wamboldt,
Gavin, Renouf, and Emde (1996) showed that when couples stories about
their childrens births were especially coherent and emotionally expressive, the
couples also showed greater levels of marital satisfaction. For both men and

248

M CA D A M S

women in later life, stories about family provide threads of continuity for
their individual life stories (Pratt & Fiese, this volume). As Pratt and Norris
(1999) have noted, the life stories of older adults are often given coherence by
their sense of having learned important lessons from a more mature family
member or other adult Wgure from their earlier lives. Yet stories told about
families do not always play a beneWcent role in individual identity. In the
cases clinicians know best, family stories may be seen as the reasons for signiWcant problems in ones life (White & Epston, 1990). Family stories may
stiXe identity as much as they enhance it (Pratt & Fiese, this volume).
What kinds of family stories do highly generative people tell? Pratt et al.
(1999) asked adults to identify critical moral incidents in their own lives and
to tell those incidents as if they were telling them to an adolescent. The
respondents also completed a self-report measure of generativity. Adults who
scored high on the generativity measure told personal stories for adolescents
that tended to emphasize the development of their own values and important
lessons they had learned from their past, to a greater extent than did adults
scoring low in generativity. In addition, the narratives told by the highly generative adults tended to be rated by the readers of the accounts as more engaging and well-formed, compared to the stories told by less generative adults.
Kotre (2004) has argued that any generative community must include storytellers who are invested in passing down words of wisdom from one generation to the next. The data in Pratt et al. (1999) suggest that highly generative
adults may see family storytelling in this way. In telling personal stories to
an adolescent audience, highly generative adults tell coherent and engaging
stories about how they developed their own values and what lessons can be
taken from the experiences that they had growing up.
Between the years 1996 and 1998, my students and I interviewed 74 men
and women for a study of generativity and life stories among AfricanAmerican and Euro-American adults (see Hart et al., 2001; McAdams &
Bowman, 2001; McAdams et al., 2001, for details). The 74 were chosen from
a sample of over 260 adults between the ages of 35 and 65 years, approximately half African-American and half Euro-American, who completed a
series of questionnaires and surveys, including self-report measures of generativity. The 74 who were interviewed were chosen because they each scored
extremely high or extremely low on the generativity measures. The major aim
of the study was to compare and contrast the narrative identities of highly
generative and relatively nongenerative African-American and Euro-American
men and women. Each life story interview required between 2 and 3 hours of
time to complete. Toward the end of the interview protocol, each respondent
was given this request:

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

249

Growing up, many of us hear stories in our families or from our friends that
stick with us, stories that we remember. Family stories include things parents
tell their children about the old days, their family heritage, family legends,
and so on. Part of what makes life fun, even in adulthood, involves friends and
families telling stories about themselves and about others. Try to identify one
story like this that you remember, one that has stayed with you. Tell me a little
bit about the story, why you like it or why you remember it, and what impact,
if any, you think it has had on your life.

From the 74 interviews conducted, 68 participants (37 participants high


in generativity and 31 low in generativity) provided viable responses to this
request. In virtually every instance, the participant told a story that came
from his or her family. (Only two participants told stories that originated
with a friend.) In a majority of the instances (46 out of 68, or 67%), the participant identiWed the teller of the story as a particular family member (most
often grandmothers), whereas in most of the rest of the cases (with the exception of the two friend stories) they said that the story was something that
they had heard in their family or that derived in some way from family lore.
How did the family stories of highly generative and less generative adults
diVer from each other? In many ways, the stories of the two groups did not
diVer. For example, the highly generative adults were no more or less likely to
identify a particular family member as the teller of the tale. The stories of the
two groups were comparable in length and narrative coherence. Somewhat
surprisingly perhaps, the two groups were equally likely to tell a family story
that exempliWed a valued character trait or important life lesson. Among the
traits and values celebrated by both highly generative and less generative
adults in family stories were courage, self-suYciency, hard work, and faith.
For both groups, the stories frequently contained humor and irony.
Nonetheless, the two groups of responses did diVer in a few dramatic ways.
First, the less generative adults were more likely to say that they had a diYcult
time coming up with a good example of a family story that was worth relating. The two friends stories came from the less-generative sample; Wve of
less-generative participants said that their families told very few stories (We
just didnt do that), that their families had many secrets, or that they didnt
think that family stories were very useful (You shouldnt dwell on the past),
even though they eventually did relate a family story to the interviewer; and
one less-generative participant described how her mother used to humiliate
her by telling other family members stories about her [the participants] stupidity and awkwardness. Among the highly generative adults, there were no
examples like these. The examples themselves suggest that some less-generative adults recall and perceive less interaction among family members and less

250

M CA D A M S

investment in sharing the kinds of stories that build family solidarity and
warmth. Their memories of family life are bereft of incidents in which people
enjoyed the simple act of telling and listening to each others life tales.
A second set of diVerences pertains to the content of the family stories
told. To get a sense of the overall diVerence, contrast the following two
accounts, the Wrst of which is told by a highly generative 61-year-old woman
and the second by a 46-year-old man whose questionnaire responses put him
in the low-generativity group:
High generative: My grandmother, she told me about her escape from Russia,
and that was just probably the most phenomenal story of adventure and bravery. I dont know how she could do it; I couldnt. My grandfather had come to
America a year and a half or two years before and worked and sent her a ticket
back. . . . She had the baby, or maybe two of them by then. But they had to go
in an ox cart under the hay because they had no papers all across Europe and
be handed from people to people over the borders. They got to some port in
Germany where she did get on this big boat in steerage in the bottom with the
baby. And she arrived in the United States, New York, Ellis Island, and all she
had was a train ticket to South Bend, Indiana. . . . She was about 22 or 23, no
money, no food. And she said, People were so nice to me. When theyd see the
baby crying, theyd give him a piece of bread. [The story goes on to detail her
reunion with her husband and the happiness they experienced as a family.]
Low generative: My dad telling the sea story. My dad would tell stories about
trips, actually a more extended kind of adventure he had in the 1930s with my
uncle. They got jobs on a banana boat. I think it was based in Cuba at that
point. Cuba was open then, of course. So they did that for a while and then
they took a trip through Central America and ended up working their way
back, and spent some time in New Orleans, and then back to Chicago. . . . lots
of aspects of what went on at sea. Then going through a hurricane in the
Caribbean, and then in jungles. . . . It had a big eVect on me. As I mentioned
before, that became a model for my early years of what it meant to be a
man. . . .

The two stories share surface similarities. They are both stories about
adventure and survival. They both involve travel. In both cases, the participant remarks that the story had some kind of eVect on her or him: The highly
generative woman Wnds her grandmothers story inspiring, but she feels she
could never live up to the protagonists role; the less-generative man sees the
protagonist of his family story, his father, as a role model for masculinity.
Both stories involve signiWcant dangers: oppressive governments and hurricanes. A major diVerence between the two stories concerns gender. The former is a womans story about a female protagonist and domestic heroism; the

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

251

latter is a mans story about his fathers and uncles exploits. But the highly
generative womans story contains three themes that are prevalent in many of
the family stories told by the highly generative adults, both men and women,
Black and White (and relatively scarce in the stories of less generative men
and women). These are the themes of suVering, growth, and human kindness.
In the current sample, highly generative adults were almost three times
more likely to describe a protagonists suVering and deprivation than were
less-generative adults. A total of 27 out of the 37 family stories from highly
generative adults (73%) contained the suVering theme, whereas only 8 of the
31 family stories from less generative adults described a protagonists suVering (26%). Stories described poverty, discrimination, disability, poor health,
and a host of other deprivations. In the preceding story, we see that suVering
eventually pays oV. The protagonist is reunited with her husband, and they
proceed to raise a family. By a 5-to-1 margin (32% versus 6%), highly generative adults, compared to less generative adults, told family stories in which
the protagonists suVering led directly to the expansion or growth of the self,
ones family, ones career, or some other aspect of the protagonists world. The
move from suVering to growth is similar to the redemption sequences that
McAdams et al. (1997) have identiWed as characteristic of the overall life stories told by highly generative adults. Finally, generative adults in the current
sample were eight times more likely than their less generative counterparts
(24% versus 3%) to tell family stories in which people provide help and care
for others or exhibit extraordinary acts of kindness. In the Wrst of the preceding stories, strangers give food to a hungry baby. In other family stories told
by highly generative adults, neighbors help each other out in tough economic
times, a woman tends to her sick sister, Whites help runaway Black slaves, an
aunt is especially nice to her nieces and nephews when they are forced to leave
their mother, and so on. Human kindness is often instrumental in the transformation of suVering into growth.
The results of my exploratory study of 68 family stories and their relation
to generativity are merely suggestive and in need of a more rigorous replication. Researchers need to conduct more formal tests of the hypothesis that
family stories of suVering, growth, and kindness are especially characteristic
of highly generative adults. But the results are consistent with past research
showing high levels of redemptive imagery in the life narratives of highly
generative adults (e.g., Colby & Damon, 1992; McAdams et al., 1997). The
intimate link between suVering and growth, furthermore, is arguably the
experiential core of the most basic expression of human generativity giving
birth. Even in our modern technological age, labor and delivery are painful
experiences for most pregnant women. But the suVering is necessary if new

252

M CA D A M S

life is to emerge and, eventually, grow. A successful birth and subsequent


growth, furthermore, rely on the kindness of a human community, a family
or group who provide support, assistance, and sustenance for the helpless
infant and the suVering mother. The family stories told by highly generative
adults were rarely about birth or child development per se. But they frequently employed imagery, metaphors, and plot lines that suggest the same
kind of generative human experience. In autobiographical memory, highly
generative adults may be especially sensitive or dispositionally primed to
recall family narratives of this sort (Conway & Pleydell-Pearce, 2000). Or it
may be the case that families who tell stories like these are more likely to produce children who grow up to be highly generative adults.

CONCLUSION

Every family has its own unique narrative ecology. Stories told in and about
families function in a wide variety of ways. They provide entertainment; they
oVer opportunities for self-expression; they promote belief systems and exemplify character traits that members of the family value; they help to shape
individual and family identity. Family stories are sometimes employed in the
service of generativity. Stories are passed down from one generation to the
next, linking diVerent family members together within a socio-literary tradition. Adults construct stories and tell stories to promote the well-being of
future generations. This storytelling becomes part of the warm and supportive family life that highly generative adults seek to cultivate. Research has
shown that highly generative adults foster trust and commitment in family
relations, blend warmth and discipline in their parenting practices, are deeply
invested in their childrens education, and seek to pass on values and wisdom
to their children. Family storytelling provides valuable opportunities through
which highly generative adults are able to exert a positive and long-lasting
inXuence on children and on the family system as a whole.
Highly generative adults may favor certain kinds of family stories over
others. They may Wnd especially compelling those family narratives in which
the protagonist suVers through diYcult times, but the suVering pays oV in
growth, expansion, and the realization of a full family life. Family stories may
be Wlled with unsavory characters, mean-spirited and irresponsible uncles,
wayward aunts, fools, miscreants, and buVoons. But some of the characters,
some of the time, show remarkable acts of kindness. If they did not, suVering
could not possibly lead to growth. Family life should be fun and playful; families should provide us all with a safe haven from the relentless challenges and

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

253

confusion of modern life. But from the standpoint of generativity, family life
is also serious business, for it is in the family that the greatest suVering and the
most stupendous growth and fulWllment in life will likely be experienced.
Highly generative adults seem to have a tacit understanding and appreciation
of this fact of family life. You can tell that from their stories.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The preparation of this chapter was aided greatly by a grant from the Foley
Family Foundation to establish the Foley Center for the Study of Lives at
Northwestern University. The study of life stories and generativity described
in the last part of the paper was funded by a grant to the author from the
Spencer Foundation. The author would like to thank Reginald Blount, Phil
Bowman, Jennifer Goldberg, Holly Hart, Amy Himsel, Renee Janz-Diamond,
Amy Kegley, Erin Kennedy, Kenya Key, Martha Lewis, Jane Maring, Nathania Montes, David McConville, Derek McNeil, Lakshi Ramanathan, Elizabeth Reyes, and Janet Shlaes for their assistance in various aspects of that
study.

REFERENCES
Ackerman, S., ZuroV, D., & Moscowitz, D. S. (2000). Generativity in midlife and young
adults: Links to agency, communion, and well-being. International Journal of Aging and
Human Development, 50, 1741.
Arnett, J. J. (2000). Emerging adulthood: A theory of development from the late teens through
the twenties. American Psychologist, 55, 469480.
Baron-Cohen, S. (1995). Mindblindness: An essay on autism and theory of mind. Cambridge,
MA: MIT Press.
Becker, E. (1973). The denial of death. New York: The Free Press.
Bradley, C. (1997). Generativity-stagnation: Development of a status model. Developmental
Review, 17, 262290.
Bruner, J. S. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Cohler, B. J., Hostetler, A. J., & Boxer, A. (1998). Generativity, social context, and lived experience: Narratives of gay men in middle adulthood. In D. P. McAdams & E. de St. Aubin
(Eds.), Generativity and adult development (pp. 265309). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Colby, A., & Damon, W. (1992). Some do care: Contemporary lives of moral commitment. New
York: The Free Press.
Cole, E. R., & Stewart, A. J. (1996). Meanings of political participation among Black and
White women: Political identity and social responsibility. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 71, 130140.

254

M CA D A M S

Conway, M. A., & Pleydell-Pearce, C. W. (2000). The construction of autobiographical memories in the self-memory system. Psychological Review, 107, 261288.
de St. Aubin, E., & McAdams, D. P. (1995). The relations of generative concern and generative action to personality traits, satisfaction/happiness with life, and ego development. Journal of Adult Development, 2, 99112.
de St. Aubin, E., McAdams, D. P., & Kim, T. C. (Eds.). (2004). The generative society. Washington, DC: APA Press.
Dennett, D. (1987). The intentional stance. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Denzin, N. (1989). Interpretive biography. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.
Dillon, M., & Wink, P. (2004). Religion, cultural change, and generativity in American society. In E. de St. Aubin, D. P. McAdams, & T. C. Kim (Eds.), The generative society (pp.
153174). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Erikson, E. H. (1950). Childhood and society. New York: Norton.
Erikson, E. H. (1959). Identity and the life cycle: Selected papers. Psychological Issues, 1(1), 5
165.
Fiese, B. H., Hooker, K. A., Kotary, L., Schwagler, J., & Rimmer, M. (1995). Family stories in
the early stages of parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 763770.
Fiese, B. H., SameroV, A., Grotevant, H., Wamboldt, F., Dickstein, S., & Fravel, D. (1999).
The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship
beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64 (Serial No. 257).
Fivush, R., & Kuebli, J. (1997). Making everyday events emotional: The construal of emotion
in parent-child conversations about the past. In N. L. Stein, P. A. Ornstein, B. Tversky, &
C. Brainerd (Eds.), Memory for everyday and emotional events (pp. 239266). Mahwah, NJ:
Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Grossbaum, M. G., & Bates, G. W. (2002). Correlates of psychological well-being at midlife:
The role of generativity, agency and communion, and narrative themes. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 120127.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hart, H. M., McAdams, D. P., Hirsch, B. J., & Bauer, J. J. (2001). Generativity and social
involvement among African-Americans and White adults. Journal of Research in Personality,
35, 208230.
Hill, R. B. (1997). The strengths of African American families: Twenty-Wve years later. Washington, DC: R & B Publishers.
Howe, M. L., & Courage, M. L. (1997). The emergence and early development of autobiographical memory. Psychological Review, 104, 499523.
Kagan, J. (1994). Galens prophecy. New York: Basic Books.
Kay, A. (1998). Generativity in the shadow of genocide: The Holocaust experience and generativity. In D. P. McAdams & E. de St. Aubin (Eds.), Generativity and adult development (pp.
335359). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Keyes, C. L. M., & RyV, C. D. (1998). Generativity in adult lives: Social structural contours
and quality of life consequences. In D. P. McAdams & E. de St. Aubin (Eds.), Generativity
and adult development (pp. 227263). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Kim, G., & Youn, G. (2002). Generativity diVerences between employed and non-employed
women in Korea: A role of education level. Psychological Reports, 91, 12051212.
Kotre, J. (1984). Outliving the self: Generativity and the interpretation of lives. Baltimore, MD:
Johns Hopkins University Press.

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

255

Kotre, J. (1999). Making it count: How to generate a legacy that gives meaning to your life. New
York: The Free Press.
Kotre, J. (2004). Generativity and culture: What meaning can do. In E. de St. Aubin, D. P. McAdams, & T. C. Kim (Eds.), The generative society (pp. 3549). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Kotre, J., & Kotre, K. B. (1998). Intergenerational buVers: The damage stops here. In D. P.
McAdams & E. de St. Aubin (Eds.), Generativity and adult development (pp. 367389).
Washington, DC: APA Press.
Maccoby, E. E., & Martin, J. A. (1983). Socialization in the context of the family: Parent-child
interaction. In P. Mussen (Ed.), Handbook of child psychology (4th ed., Vol. 4, pp. 1102).
New York: John Wiley & Sons.
MacDermid, S. M., Franz, C. E., & De Reus, L. A. (1998). Generativity: At the crossroads of
social roles and personality. In D. P. McAdams & E. de St. Aubin (Eds.), Generativity and
adult development (pp. 181226). Washington, DC: APA Press.
Mackey, K., Arnold, M. L, & Pratt, M. W. (2001). Adolescents stories of decision-making in
more or less authoritative families: Representing the voices of parents in narrative. Journal
of Adolescent Research, 16, 243268.
Mandler, J. M. (1984). Stories, scripts, and scenes: Aspects of schema theory. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Martin, P., Hagestad, G. O., & Diedrick, P. (1988). Family stories: Events (temporarily)
remembered. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 50, 533541.
Maruna, S. (2001). Making good: How ex-convicts reform and rebuild their lives. Washington,
DC: APA Press.
McAdams, D. P. (1985). Power, intimacy, and the life story: Personological inquiries into identity.
New York: Guilford Press.
McAdams, D. P. (1993). The stories we live by: Personal myths and the making of the self. New
York: William Morrow.
McAdams, D. P. (1996). Personality, modernity, and the storied self: A contemporary framework for studying persons. Psychological Inquiry, 7, 295321.
McAdams, D. P. (2001a). Generativity in midlife. In M. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife
development (pp. 395443). New York: Wiley.
McAdams, D. P. (2001b). The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5, 100
122.
McAdams, D. P., & Bowman, P. J. (2001). Narrating lifes turning points: Redemption and
contamination. In D. P. McAdams, R. Josselson, & A. Lieblich (Eds.), Turns in the road:
Narrative studies of lives in transition (pp. 334). Washington, DC: APA Press.
McAdams, D. P., & de St. Aubin, E. (1992). A theory of generativity and its assessment
through self-report, behavioral acts, and narrative themes in autobiography. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 62, 10031015.
McAdams, D. P., & de St. Aubin, E. (Eds.). (1998). Generativity and adult development: How
and why we care for the next generation. Washington, DC: APA Press.
McAdams, D. P., de St. Aubin, E., & Logan, R. (1993). Generativity among young, midlife,
and older adults. Psychology and Aging, 8, 221230.
McAdams, D. P., Diamond, A., de St. Aubin, E., & MansWeld, E. (1997). Stories of commitment: The psychosocial construction of generative lives. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 72, 678694.
McAdams, D. P., Reynolds, J., Lewis, M. L., Patten, A., & Bowman, P. T. (2001). When bad
things turn good and good things turn bad: Sequences of redemption and contamination

256

M CA D A M S

in life narrative, and their relation to psychosocial adaptation in midlife adults and in students. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 27, 472483.
Miller, P., Wiley, A., Fung, H., & Liang, C. H. (1997). Personal story-telling as a medium of
socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68, 557568.
Morson, G. S. (1995). Anna Kareninas omens. In G. Gibian (Ed.), Anna Karenina: A Norton
critical edition (2nd ed., pp. 831843). New York: W. W. Norton.
Myers, D. G. (2000). The American paradox: Spiritual hunger in an age of plenty. New Haven,
CT: Yale University Press.
Nakagawa, K. (1991). Explorations into the correlates of public school reform and parental involvement. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Northwestern University.
Oppenheim, D., Wamboldt, F., Gavin, L., Renouf, A., & Emde, R. (1996). Couples co-construction of the story of their childs birth: Associations with marital adaptation. Journal of
Narrative and Life History, 6, 121.
Peterson, B. E. (2002). Longitudinal analysis of midlife generativity, intergenerational roles,
and caregiving. Psychology and Aging, 17, 161168.
Peterson, B. E., & Duncan, L. E. (1999). Generative concern, political commitment, and
charitable actions. Journal of Adult Development, 6, 105118.
Peterson, B. E., & Klohnen, E. C. (1995). Realization of generativity in two samples of women
at midlife. Psychology and Aging, 10, 2029.
Peterson, B. E., Smirles, K. A., & Wentworth, P. A. (1997). Generativity and authoritarianism:
Implications for personality, political involvement, and parenting. Journal of Personality and
Social Psychology, 72, 12021216.
Peterson, B. E., & Stewart, A. J. (1990). Using personal and Wctional documents to assess psychosocial development: A case study of Vera Brittains generativity. Psychology and Aging, 5,
400411.
Pratt, M. W., Danso, H. A., Arnold, M. L., Norris, J. E., & Filyer, R. (2001). Adult generativity and the socialization of adolescents: Relations to mothers and fathers parenting
beliefs, styles, and practices. Journal of Personality, 69, 89120.
Pratt, M. W., & Norris, J. E. (1999). Moral development in maturity: Lifespan perspectives on
the process of successful aging. In T. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition and
aging (pp. 291317). New York: Academic Press.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J. E., Arnold, M. L., & Filyer, R. (1999). Generativity and moral development as predictors of value-socialization narratives for young persons across the adult life
span: From lessons learned to stories shared. Psychology and Aging, 14, 414426.
Putnam, R. D. (2000). Bowling alone: The collapse and revival of American community. New
York: Simon & Schuster.
Putney, N., & Bengston, V. (2001). Families, intergenerational relationships, and kinkeeping
in midlife. In M. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife development (pp. 528570). New
York: Wiley.
Riess, D. (1989). The practicing and representing family. In A. J. SameroV & R. Emde (Eds.),
Relationship disturbances in early childhood (pp. 191220). New York: Basic Books.
Rosenwald, G. C., & Ochberg, R. L. (Eds.). (1992). Storied lives. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Rossi, A. (Ed.). (2001). Caring and doing for others: Social responsibility in the domains of family, work, and community. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Snarey, J. (1993). How fathers care for the next generation: A four-decade study. Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press.

10.

G E N E R AT I V I T Y A N D FA M I LY L I F E

257

Stewart, A. J. (1994). Toward a feminist strategy for studying womens lives. In C. Franz &
A. J. Stewart (Eds.), Women creating lives (pp. 1135). Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
Stewart, A. J., Franz, E., & Layton, L. (1988). The changing self: Using personal documents
to study lives. Journal of Personality, 56, 4174.
Stewart, A. J., & Vandewater, E. A. (1998). The course of generativity. In D. P. McAdams &
E. de St. Aubin (Eds.), Generativity and adult development (pp. 75100). Washington, DC:
APA Press.
Tolstoy, L. (1995). Anna Karenina. New York: W. W. Norton. (Original work published 1877)
Tomasello, M. (2000). Culture and cognitive development. Current Directions in Psychological
Science, 9, 3740.
Twenge, J. (2000). The age of anxiety? Birth cohort change in anxiety and neuroticism, 1952
1993. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 79, 10071021.
Vaillant, G. E., & Milofsky, E. (1980). The natural history of male psychological health: IX.
Empirical evidence for Eriksons model of the life cycle. American Journal of Psychiatry, 137,
13481359.
Vandewater, E. A., Ostrove, J. M., & Stewart, A. J. (1997). Predicting womens well-being in
midlife: The importance of personality development and social role involvements. Journal
of Personality and Social Psychology, 72, 11471160.
Wellman, H. M. (1993). Early understanding of mind: The normal case. In S. Baron-Cohen,
H. Tager-Flusberg, & D. Cohen (Eds.), Understanding other minds: Perspectives from autism
(pp. 1039). New York: Oxford University Press.
Whitbourne, S. K., Zuschlag, M. K., Elliot, L. B., & Waterman, A. S. (1992). Psychosocial
development in adulthood: A 22-year sequential study. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 63, 260271.
White, M., & Epston, D. (1990). Narrative means to therapeutic ends. New York: Norton.

11
Pin-Curling Grandpas Hair
in the Comfy Chair: Parents Stories
of Growing Up and Potential Links
to Socialization in the Preschool Years
Barbara H. Fiese
Nicole L. Bickham
Syracuse University

Tell me a story about when you were little . . . This is a request heard often
by parents of young children. When asked if they ever talked about their
growing up experiences with their children, nine out of ten parents reported
that they had done so on several occasions. Six out of ten parents of preschoolers reported that they did so on at least a weekly basis (Fiese, Hooker,
Kotary, Schwagler, & Rimmer, 1995). But what do they talk about? In this
chapter we place family stories in the ecological context of child rearing. We
propose that parents use stories of their growing up experiences as opportunities for socialization and that these stories convey messages about being
close to others, doing good work, and striving for independence. Woven into
the fabric of everyday life, these stories can serve as guideposts for behavior,
providing children with rich images of their parents experiences as well as
more subtle nuances of what it means to be a member of a family.
To illuminate this process, we describe a study of 120 parents who were
asked to tell a story to their 4-year-old child about when they were growing
up. In examining socialization via family stories, we highlight variations in
story themes of both storyteller and listener. We propose that there is a developmental press in the thematic content of family stories. Second, as a process,
telling stories about growing up provides generational links. Many of the
stories include a description of family kinship ties and provide vibrant images
of family members who are important to understanding family history but
259

260

FIESE AND BICKHAM

are removed from the childs everyday experiences. Family stories provide a
unique opportunity to examine both stability and change within the context
of the family system. Stories may serve to both preserve family identity across
generations, insuring continuity, as well as help members navigate developmental passages, reXecting the changing nature of family life. We also take
this opportunity to demonstrate how the study of family stories lends itself
well to the systematic integration of qualitative and quantitative research
methods.
Family stories are complex, due in part to the simultaneous existence of
two distinct layers to storiesthe act of storytelling and the content of the
story itself. The act of telling family stories provides an opportunity to connect generations as well as introduce new members to the family. Several
researchers have noted that during the early stages of relationship formation,
couples disclose accounts of unique as well as common personal experiences
as they face the task of creating a shared identity (VeroV, Sutherland, Chadiah, & Ortega, 1993; Wamboldt, 1999). In many cases, the parent generation may use introductory gatherings as opportunities to bring the potential son- or daughter-in-law into the fold of the family through stories told
about their future husband or wife. Much to the chagrin of the soon-to-be
bride or groom, these stories may include recountings of previous boyfriends
or girlfriends, times of success and failure, or just plain silly acts displayed
as a youngster. Though on the surface these stories may appear to function
purely as entertainment, they allow the novice family member to become
acquainted not only with their soon-to-be-betrothed but also members of the
family still to be introduced (e.g., distant uncles, grandparents, old boyfriends/girlfriends).
Family stories can be used to teach lessons as well as to initiate members
into the family. Miller and colleagues describe how parents of preschool-age
children remark on childrens transgressions and use these opportunities to
reinforce cultural norms of acceptable behavior (Miller, Wiley, Fung, &
Liang, 1997). Thorne, McClean, and Dasbach (this volume) suggest that
stories of parental transgressions provide opportunities for value learning in
adolescence as well. Pratt and colleagues have demonstrated that there are
explicit moral tones in the stories conveyed by grandparents to their grandchildren (Pratt, Norris, Arnold, & Filyer, 1999). Examples drawn from studies of early couple formation and lessons shared between grandparent and
grandchild highlight how family stories may serve as roadmaps of what to
expect in relationships and how to handle common challenges such as disappointments and moral dilemmas. Thus, stories can be used to engage members as well as to instruct them in family lore.

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

261

THEMATIC CONTENT OF FAMILY STORIES

There are a variety of ways to analyze family stories, as evidenced in this volume. One approach is to consider the relative coherence of the narrative. Coherence may be an important marker of emotional resolution of a personal
event as well as reXective of how well the individual has been able to integrate
diVerent aspects of an experience into a synthesized whole (Fiese & SameroV,
1999). This process of integration and synthesis has been shown to be important in studies of attachment (Main & Goldwyn, 1984), identity formation
(Grotevant, 1993), and relationship satisfaction (Dickstein, St. Andre, SameroV, Seifer, & Schiller, 1999). The coherence of a narrative is proposed to reXect
the meaning-making process inherent in telling a story of personal relevance.
The thematic content of stories, on the other hand, may be more closely
linked to socialization. By focusing on the thematic content of stories it is
possible to identify enduring themes that are associated with creating an
integrated identity as well as themes that shift with developmental changes.
McAdams (this volume) describes diVerent storied themes that evolve across
the lifespan. The thematic content of stories has been proposed to reXect
intentions and motives (McAdams, 1993). Henry Murray (1938) catalogued
these themes based on stories told about cards depicting ambiguous visual
stimuli. Although originally identifying a multitude of motivational themes,
they have been distilled into two overarching constructs: agency and communion (Bakan, 1966). Typically described in the context of what motivates
adults to behave in the ways that they do, these themes revolve around strivings to be independent and autonomous and strivings to form close relationships. McAdams (this volume) has extended these core themes to include
strivings for generativity and investment in future generations. The bulk of
the narrative work that has been done on thematic content has focused on
adolescents and adults, with a particular focus on identity. Certainly, this
makes sense when considering how stories may be part and parcel of who we
are and how we come to be (McAdams, 1993). Implicit in a thematic emphasis is the notion that through the telling of stories and integration of experiences there are unifying themes that characterize personal identity. It would
be an egregious error to consider this as a solitary activity and one that is only
born when reaching adolescence. The stories we come to create are built not
only on our own personal experiences but also through an integration of the
stories that we have heard over many years.
There is a small literature on the thematic content of family stories. Martin and colleagues (Martin, Hagestad, & Diedrick, 1988) set out to identify

262

FIESE AND BICKHAM

generational links in family stories by asking parents and grandparents of


college students to recall stories told about relatives, even those they had not
met. The majority of the stories were of a personal nature falling into the
broad categories of personality descriptions, work, family, death and dying,
and general family activities. Interestingly, stories told about unique personalities (such as Crazy Freddie who owned hundreds of cuckoo clocks)
tended to portray males as the protagonist. Work-related stories also typically
portrayed heroes rather than heroines. Females, on the other hand, were most
often the center of the story when the event focused on family life, such as
relying on a grandparent in times of need. A similar pattern was noted by
Nussbaum and Bettini (1994) in another study of college students and stories
told by their grandparents. Grandfathers tended to tell stories that emphasized the value of life and survival. In contrast, grandmothers were more likely
to tell stories about relationships and how the family developed, with particular attention to the value of family history and preservation.
Stories can serve as historical accounts of who is in the family, who left the
family, and how the family was preserved across generations. These accounts
tend to fall along gendered lines with the primary player in work and survival
stories being male and leading ladies starring in relationship and family history stories. The study of grandparent-grandchild storytelling emphasizes the
epochal potential of family stories. In contrast, the stories between parent and
child may be less grand and dramatic, with more attention to the details of
everyday life.
Fivush and colleagues (Fivush & FromhoV, 1988; Reese, Haden, & Fivish,
1993) have eloquently demonstrated that there are important diVerences in
how parents and children engage in reminiscing about the past. Some parents
tend to elaborate and encourage their children to participate in the act of
storytelling with obvious turn taking that results in a more complete story.
Other parents tend to just give the facts and are less likely to include their
children in the act of storytelling. These stylistic diVerences are predictive of
the childs own narrative style during the preschool years (Peterson & McCabe,
1994). Interestingly, gender diVerences have also been noted in parent-child
stories, whereby daughters are more likely to be elaborative partners than sons
and more likely to develop elaborative and detailed narratives of their past
compared to sons.
How might we go about integrating these Wndings? A simplistic approach
would be to call upon global theories of gendered talk and catalogue these
Wndings as additional evidence that men and women diVer in what they say
and what they believe they have said (Gilligan, 1982). However, this solution
is inadequate because it ignores the transactional value of storytelling and the

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

263

broader context in which family stories are relayed. As we set out on this
analysis of family stories, we were sensitive to the fact that mothers and
fathers may diVer in how they approach the task of telling stories. We were
interested in identifying a catalogue of themes that would summarize the
stories that families told about their growing up experiences. If family stories
are used as one medium of conveying lessons then we expect those messages
to be compatible with the developmental task of the child receiving the story
as well as the cultural context of the storyteller. Because we were venturing
into relatively uncharted territory, we opted to take a qualitative approach in
detecting thematic content rather than relying on a priori categories. We recognize that the themes we identiWed may be subject to our personal biases.
However, as an initial foray we felt that this approach would allow for a more
extensive examination of potential and emerging themes.
In addition to identifying themes, we were also interested in whether the
content of the stories would diVer by gender of parent and/or child. Thus, we
used the themes identiWed in our qualitative analysis as categories that could
be subjected to more quantitative comparisons across groups.

SAMPLE OF STORY-TELLERS AND LISTENERS

The stories we describe were drawn from 120 families with 4-year-old children (56 boys and 64 girls). The families were recruited through area nursery
schools as part of a larger study on family traditions and intergenerational
family process. Twenty-Wve of the children were the only child in the family,
38 were Wrst-born with younger siblings, 39 were the youngest with older siblings, and 18 had both younger and older siblings. The sample was primarily
Caucasian (91%) with the remainder Black (4%), Latino (2%), and Asian
(2%). The families were primarily middle and upper middle class with an
average Hollingshead (1975) 4-factor score of 56 distributed across four
classes (I [upper middle] 61%, II 34%, III 4%, IV [unemployed] 1%). The
average age of the mothers was 34 years, and the average age of the fathers was
36 years.

STORY-TELLING TASK

Each parent was presented with a 3 5" index card detailing the following
instructions: Tell your child a story about when you were growing up . . .
when you were a little girl (boy). Although the other parent was present

264

FIESE AND BICKHAM

when the story was being told, each parent was asked to tell the story directly
to the target child. We realize that the procedure itself may have been somewhat artiWcial and may not reXect the spontaneous stories told in everyday
life. However, we did Wnd that in some cases these were stories that had been
told before. In several instances, the parent would preface the story with,
Should I tell the one about . . . ? indicating that it was a story the child had
already heard. Children would also indicate recognition of the story by Wlling
in details or egging the parents on. Certainly, not every story was one that had
been told before. However, there appears to be some evidence that telling
stories about growing up experiences is not an entirely novel behavior (Fiese
et al., 1995; Miller & Moore, 1989). In our own study the following example serves to illustrate:
Mother: Did I ever tell you the time we went on vacation? And we were playing. And did I tell you this before?
Child: Yeah, you ran down the hill and you fell.
Mother: I did, and I had that glass bottle.
Child: And it had a sharp edge.

It is evident in this case that not only had the child heard the story before, he
could Wll in details that were important in following the storyline.

QUALITATIVE STRATEGY

In a previous report, we limited our analysis to identifying the strength of


achievement and aYliation themes, based on theoretical considerations (Fiese
& Skillman, 2000). We felt, however, that these two themes did not capture
the richness of the stories and that parents were imparting messages that went
beyond drawing close and striving for success. Therefore, in the current analysis we relied on a qualitative method referred to as the constant comparative
method for identifying content themes (Taylor & Bogdan, 1998). Based on
grounded theory (Glaser & Strauss, 1967), this strategy allows the researcher
to identify themes that are then compared across the data (in this case, the
stories) and revised as new themes emerge or need to be reWned given conXicting evidence in the data.
For the Wrst pass on the stories, each story was read by the Wrst author, who
made notes on emerging themes. A preliminary set of categories was identiWed that included themes of aYliation, achievement, independence, getting
into trouble, and kinship ties. The second author independently reviewed 60
of the stories and their thematic assignments. The two authors agreed on the

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

265

TABLE 11.1
Themes IdentiWed in Family Stories
Theme

Working DeWnition

Relationships/AYliation
Family
Story includes being close with or engaging in activities with
family members. Often includes activities noted by spending
time together.
Non-family
Being close or spending time with nonfamily members, includes
pets. May include several activities or just spending time together.
Family Life
Roles are assigned through work or place in family (e.g., parent as
Roles
authority Wgure or youngest sibling).
Something that occurs on a regular basis. Often preceded by
Routines
phrases such as always, we used to, every
we would.
Work
Narrator explains how something works or how something is done
How Things Work
(e.g., method of Wshing, how to make a pie).
Story focuses on an accomplishment or the importance of an
Achievement
achievement (e.g., working hard at something), regardless of the
outcome.
Independence
Child acts independently or seeks independence. May be implied
Autonomy
(spending solitary time) or explicit (defying authority Wgures) or
going beyond what would be expected of a child of a particular age
(e.g., riding bus home alone when 5 years old).
Doing something on ones own or engaging in joint activity that
Risk Taking
leads to or could lead to child being harmed.
Getting Into Trouble Doing something that resulted in the child being punished or
reprimanded.

presence or absence of the themes on average 90% of the time. DeWnitions of


the themes were revised, and in some cases a larger category was reWned to
reXect two or more separate themes. The resulting categories and their deWnitions are presented in Table 11.1.

THEMATIC LANDSCAPE

We reviewed 220 stories; 109 were told by mothers and 111 by fathers. The
number of themes evident in each story were relatively evenly distributed
across the sample, with 25% of the stories including one theme, 25% two

266
FIG. 11.1.

Percent of stories containing theme.

11.

PA R E N T S S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

267

themes, 25% three themes, and 25% containing four or more themes. Figure 11.1 depicts the percentage of stories containing the themes that we
identiWed.
STORY ORIENTATION: PEOPLE AND PLACES

In addition to content themes, we Wrst address the issue of how the parents
approached the task and structured the story to engage the child. Researchers who study parent-child reminiscing point out that there are distinct
styles of engaging children in narrative tasks (e.g., Fivush, Bohanek, Robertson, & Duke, this volume; Peterson & McCabe, this volume). Thus we
expected individual diVerences in how parents approached the storytelling
task. Approximately half of the parents took the childs perspective into
account when recounting their childhood experiences. Mothers and fathers
were just as likely to incorporate the childs perspective, whether told to sons
or daughters. There were multiple ways that parents would incorporate the
childs perspective into the story. The over-arching strategy was to use leading phrases such as, remember when you . . . There were several variations
that we found interesting in this regard. Close to one third of the stories
included reference to geographical locations to orient the child to the story.
The locations ranged from recognizable landmarks (e.g., Niagara Falls) to
sites of family signiWcance (e.g., a summer house). Parents also used kinship
ties as a means to engage children in the story, highlighting how members
of the family were related to each other. The following excerpt includes several of these orientation features.
Father: Remember when we went walking with Grandpa?
Child: Yeah.
Father: Well, when I was a little boy, I used to go walking with my grandpa all
the time and in fact we used to go on walking trips. I used to go walking with my Dad, whos your grandpa, and uhm . . . remember when
we went down to the pond?
Child: Yeah.
Father: Do you remember that? The pond behind Grandma and Grandpas
house?
Child: Yeah.
Father: Well when I was a little boy, every Thanksgivingand thats what we
had last week, remember? We had Thanksgiving. We had a big dinner
at Grandma and Grandpas house. Every Thanksgiving when it was cold
enough we would go skating on the pond and we would play hockey.
Remember? Playing hockey?

268

FIESE AND BICKHAM

In this excerpt, the father engages the child through recalling people and
places that were familiar to the child even though the story itself was about a
nonshared experience.
Relationships, Roles, and Routines

The most predominant theme was aYliation. Close to half (43%) of the stories included some aspect of shared activities or being close to family or nonfamily members. Stories with aYliative themes ranged from a focus on shared
activities (e.g., sharing a tent with brothers and sisters) to explicit statements
about feeling good when with family members. When we examined the likelihood that the aYliation stories would be told by mothers or fathers we
found some interesting results. Mothers were more likely, overall, to tell a
story that included an aYliation theme with family members, c2 (218) =
3.70, p < .05. Many of the stories told by mothers described feeling close to
family members. In the following story, the mothers fondness for her grandfather is revealed:
This is true. This really happened. When I was a little girl and I lived with my
grandfather and grandmother. Grandpa had a big comfy chair as comfy as that
chair over there and he used to snuggle down in that chair and I would walk
around in front of my grandfather and look at him and he would know that I
wanted to crawl up in his lap and you know how that feels? So I would crawl
up in his lap and he would hold me in his lap and he would tell me stories. And
you know what one of my favorite things to do was to comb Grandpas hair.
One day I decided to comb Grandpas hair and I took my little hair brush and
comb and I stood up behind Grandpa and his comfy chair and I started to
comb his hair and he said, Oh that feels so nice, and I combed his hair and
he didnt know it but I had some little ponytail holders and some pins and I
started making pin curls in grandpas hair and I put little curls all on the top of
his head and he fell asleep. And when he woke up he had the prettiest curls you
ever saw all over his head and he didnt even mind. Wasnt that nice?

It was relatively common for mothers, and to a lesser extent fathers, to


incorporate themes of being close with others even in the face of childhood
antics. This view of family relationships is somewhat diVerent from those
portrayed in attachment stories where the primary focus is on felt security.
Although not incompatible with secure attachment relationships, the more
mundane descriptions of daily exchanges underscore that family relationships
are characterized by repetitive, sometimes Xeeting, interactions involving
warmth, cohesion, and trust. From the perspective of general systems theory,

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

269

these are often considered key ingredients of a healthy family (Parke & Buriel,
1998). Another aspect of family organization that was often included in stories marked by closeness was the mention of family roles and routines. Taken
together, these three themes appear to form a constellation that reXects trust
in relationships as well as how family life is organized around roles and routines. An example serves to illustrate:
At night, sometimes, Grandpa Franklin would come into me and Justines, you
know Aunt Justine, well hed come into our bedroom and sing us some songs.
And me and Justine shared a room, hed go into our room, and we would have
one bed, just like you and Sam share a room; we would each be laying in our
bed and he would sing us some silly songs. And wed say Please daddy, please
sing There was an old lady who swallowed a Xy. And that was our favorite,
and do you know why we liked that song? You know that song . . . there was
an old lady who swallowed a Xy, I dont know why she swallowed a Xy . . . Well
Grandpa would tickle every time he got to that part, it tickled inside her. Has
Grandpa ever done that to you when he sung that song to you? Well wed be in
our beds and Grandpa would come in and me and Justine would be in our beds
and hed reach his hands and go and wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside
her. And hed tickle us when he used to sing those songs. And then hed give
us a big kiss and hug goodnight. And that was a nice way to end the day.

We examined whether stories told to daughters were diVerent from those


told to sons. We created a summary score totaling the presence or absence
of the themes of aYliation, roles, and routines (see Table 11.2). We found a
trend (F (3, 216) = 2.26, p < .08) for stories told by mothers to daughters to
be strongest on these dimensions. Women have been referred to as the kinkeepers of the family, being responsible for organizing family gatherings
(Leach & Braithwaite, 1996), maintaining contact across generations (Rosenthal & Marshall, 1988), and ensuring that family traditions are preserved
(Meske, Sanders, Meredith, & Abbott, 1994). Evident in these stories are
roles and routines that demark everyday family relationships.
Work and Success

A second grouping of stories we identiWed can be summarized along the lines


of work and strivings for success. We examined gender diVerences in the likelihood of such themes being expressed in the stories. We totaled the absence
or presence of achievement and how things work themes to create a summary
of work themes. We found that overall there was a gender diVerence in the
likelihood of such themes being included (F (3, 216) = 3.16, p < .02). Overall, fathers were signiWcantly more likely to tell stories of work and stories told

270

FIESE AND BICKHAM

Table 11.2
Presence of Story Themes by Parent-Child Dyad
Mother

Percent of Stories a
Relationships
AYliation
Non-Family
Family Life
Roles
Routines
Roles & Routines Combined
Work
How Things Work
Achievement
Work & Achievement Combined
Independence
Autonomy
Risk Taking
Getting Into Trouble
Trouble & Autonomy Combined

Father

Daughter

Son

Daughter

Son

46
02

39
08

32
08

28
13

38
41
64

11
38
46

24
31
49

18
32
41

08
05
12

17
17
28

24
18
33

26
15
36

10
07
03
16

12
06
05
18

22
20
05
34

17
21
09
38

aPercent of all stories told within dyads: mother/daughter; mother/son;


father/daughter; father/son.

by mothers to daughters were the least likely to include work themes. A story
told by a father to his son serves to illustrate the work stories:
Father: When I was a little boy, we had a house that was on a corner, we had
180 feet of sidewalk to shovel. And you know what? I had to do one
side. Every time it snowed I had to get up early and go out and shovel
one side. And I shoveled the sidewalk that was on Maple Street. Everybody else had to shovel the side that was on Oak Avenue. Now, I had to
shovel 60 feet, and nobody else had to shovel so much. You know why I
had to shovel 60 feet, and nobody else shoveled so much? cause I would
get up early and there was a lot of people who used to walk down Maple
Street where I shoveled and I had to get it done early, cause otherwise it
would all get packed down, and it would be hard and slippery and you
couldnt shovel it and it was really tough, but if I got early on it and I
got it all done it was really easy, and I got the whole thing shoveled and
it would be done in no time at all. So, I got all my shoveling done for
the whole day before I went to school. But nobody helped me. I had to

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

271

do it all by myself. Sometimes it was really deep, and it was a heavy


shovel and it was a steel shovel. When I used the steel shovel. Do you
know why I used the steel shovel? Cause it didnt bend like the aluminum shovel did. Even though it was heavier it was better, because
the sidewalk wasnt very smooth and so you had to scrape it to get the
snow oV cause even when I got up early there were some people who
had gotten up earlier than I had and had already started to pack down
the snow.
Son:
Who packed down the snow?
Father: They walked on it. stomp . . . stomp . . . stomp. And they would pack
it down so that it would be really hard to shovel and thats why Id try to
get up early and get it done.

In this account, the father describes not only his hard work but also the
tools (a steel shovel) that are necessary to complete the task. Indeed, one quarter of the fathers stories included reference to tools or lengthy descriptions of
how things work.
Being Independent: Getting Into Trouble

A third broad category we identiWed were stories that had to do with being
independent and striving for autonomy. In many cases, the striving for independence included risk taking which ultimately got the child in trouble. We
totaled the presence or absence of autonomy, risk taking, and getting into
trouble to create an independence score. We found that fathers, overall, were
more likely to tell stories that included being independent, risk taking, and
getting into trouble (F (3, 216) = 3.06, p < .03). Fathers were twice as likely
to tell stories about independence and over three times as likely to tell stories
that involved some type of risk taking. The following story serves to illustrate:
When I was a little boy a long time ago, I used to be very hazardous. When I
used to get together with my brothers, daddys daddy he would always tell us
dont cause any trouble. Ok, but I always used to get into trouble. I remember
one summer I got in so much trouble that I wasnt allowed to go outside and
play. I ended up going through a window. I got hit by a car. I got my teeth
knocked out. This is all in one summer. My daddy wasnt very happy with me.
I told him, dont worry about it, Im OK. He says, well when you get older and
you become a daddy and youll know why I worry. I never understood that
too much until you guys came along. But I didnt care then. So I just went out
and got hit by another car. So thats why, what do I say when you are out riding your bike? What do I say? Watch both ways right? Thats my story and Im
still alive.

272

FIESE AND BICKHAM

Although we found few stories that contained an explicit moral, fathers


stories about getting into trouble and risk taking oftentimes reXected the
implicit message, Do as I say not as I did!

TREES OF FAMILY STORIES

The stories that parents have to tell about their growing up experiences can be
thought of as reXecting the diVerent branches of family life as well as imparting messages consistent with socialization in the context of American middleclass Caucasian families. We suspect that other themes may be evident under
diVerent contexts of child raising. Indeed, Miller points out that mothers
in Chinese cultures are more likely to emphasize personal transgressions in
recounting past events of their children, and mothers in America are more
likely to focus on their childs independence and personality characteristics
(Miller et al., 1997). Other researchers have noted diVerences in conversational content, with Western cultures more likely to talk about individual
accomplishments and Asian cultures to focus on shared family experiences
(Martini, 1996). As Wang (this volume) points out, cultures may diVer in
regard to emphasis on learning from past experiences. Within a cultural context where ancestors are revered and family history is considered an essential
ingredient in development, personal stories of growing up may take on characteristics beyond those found in our primarily upper middle-class American
sample. Certainly, more research is warranted to include storytelling across
cultures to focus on similarities as well as diVerences. Our discussion, thus, is
limited to the overarching themes found in this sample of stories collected
from two-parent families in middle-class America.
The ways in which the parents approached the task of storytelling is consistent with the work reported by researchers who have studied parent-child
reminiscence (e.g., Fivush et al., this volume; Peterson & McCabe, this volume). Consistent with other reports, we found that there were individual
diVerences in how parents engaged in the narrative task such that some parents were more elaborative and used cues of orientation (geography, kinship
ties, common experiences) to elaborate on story themes. It is interesting to
note that these individual diVerences have been previously noted when the
task is aimed at encouraging the child to recount an experience. In the case of
growing up stories the task is aimed at the parent telling the story to the child.
As Fung and Miller (this volume) point out, the narrative environment is regulated by the role of listener as well as the teller.

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

273

We grouped our Wndings across three thematic categories: family relationships, work, and independence. We Wnd it interesting that these summarizations are consistent with Eriksons Wrst four ages of man that span the
developmental period from birth to the early school years. The age of trust is
characterized by close relationships and feelings of inner goodness. Upon
review of Eriksons account of this pivotal initial stage it is interesting to note
that he describes building trust in relationships through everyday parent care
and responsiveness that is embedded in larger cultural institutions aimed at
providing a sense of belonging and connectedness to the ritual practice of
many (p. 250). Family relationship stories were often framed in the context
of everyday routines and special family rituals. Bedtime stories, baking cookies with Grandma, and the summer camping trip provided opportunities to
comment on not only the organization of family life but also on how routine
events provide a stage for close and meaningful relationships.
Previous research has focused on narratives of close relationships as they
pertain to attachment security (Oppenheim, this volume). The study of
family stories, as distinct from story-stem techniques, is not inconsistent with
Wndings relating attachment security and narrative practices in that positive
accounts of relationships may be expressed both through narrative and
through practice. The study of family stories is distinct, however, by inclusion
of multiple aspects of family life. Individuals may represent the trustworthiness of relationships in their cognitive working models (Main & Goldwyn,
1984), but when cast as a narrative about family members and group interaction, the setting and organizational features of the family become foreground.
We did not examine the content of these growing up stories in relation to
how parents and children interact with each other. However, there is evidence
to suggest that narrative accounts of family events are related to how families
interact with each other as a group (Dickstein et al., 1999; Fiese & Marjinsky,
1999). In this regard, family stories reXect not only whether relationships are
sources of reward but also clues as to how such relationships are played out in
everyday life.
Our Wndings that mothers were more likely to include themes of closeness
in the context of family routines is consistent with previous reports on women
and their roles as kinkeepers in the family. Previous research has focused on
how women are more likely to carry out family routines and shoulder the
responsibility of keeping the family heritage. It may be that family stories are
one way that young girls begin to be indoctrinated into the family system of
kinkeepers. Broad characterizations of gender diVerences have focused on the
contrast between relationships and work. Our Wndings are consistent with

274

FIESE AND BICKHAM

these depictions but also expand the emphasis. It is not just that mothers were
more likely to talk about relationships than fathers and that daughters were
more likely to hear these stories, but also that relationships are framed in the
context of everyday routines and special rituals that may provide a sense of
belonging related to individual identity (Fiese, 1992).
Eriksons second and third ages focus on autonomy and initiative. He
describes the emotional life of the preschooler as resolving tensions between
acting on ones own and feelings of guilt and doubt. In the stories told by parents, particularly fathers, there was an emphasis on acting on ones own with
a tension of getting into trouble. We suspect that these stories may have been
told as warnings to children. There is reason to expect that boys are more
likely overall to take physical risks and it is likely that, if caught, there would
be repercussions of some sort. In the stories of risk taking and autonomy
fathers appeared to be relaying themes of caution, recognizing that their
oVspring may be engaging in very similar adventures. Fathers, overall, highlighted the potential for danger in their family stories and interestingly boys
as well as girls were as likely to hear such stories.
Eriksons fourth age focuses on industry. In this age he describes the childs
interest and ability to handle tools and technology. We found it interesting
that in the stories told about work and striving for success there was often
mention of tools and explanations of how things work. Fathers were twice as
likely as mothers to include accounts of how things work.
Linking story content with Eriksons ages of man, even on a post-hoc
basis, highlights the potential enduring nature of these themes and their
potential to be part of the socialization process in early childhood. There is
another aspect of these stories that may also reXect not only the ways in
which there are common challenges across the life span but how family
organization fosters personal meaning in everyday life. We found it very
interesting that the second most prevalent theme, after family aYliation,
was the depiction of routines. As is the case with stories, family routines
may be multilayered and reXect not only acts but also a meaning-making
process within the family. Fiese and colleagues have made the distinction
between routines of daily living and rituals in family life (Fiese et al., 2002).
Whereas routines may be relatively perfunctory and rarely thought about
once they are completed, rituals possess a symbolic component that emotionally connects family members. In our study, we illustrated the routine
theme by reference to a regular bedtime activity. This story may relay to the
child not only the predictability of daily routines but also that these activities provide an opportunity to reaYrm close family relationships. Heard
over and over again, stories of routines may accentuate feelings of belong-

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

275

ingness and oVer signposts to the child, signifying This is what it means to
be a member of our family.
APPLICATIONS AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS

Educators and clinicians alike may beneWt from the use of family stories. Previous authors have reported employing college students to collect family
stories via their grandparents. Early childhood educators may follow suit by
enlisting the aid of teachers and parents in sharing childhood stories. These
stories may serve to illustrate common developmental phenomena as well
as unique cultural variations. For clinicians, there is a long-standing heritage
in the use of storytelling to promote change. What may be unique, from our
perspective, is the possibility to include dyadic storytelling between parent
and child as part of a therapeutic process.
We consider this an initial eVort to examine how family stories may be part
of socialization in early childhood. If these stories do reXect important developmental phenomena it will be important to compare themes across diVerent
ages. It may be that themes of personal identity may not be cemented until
early adulthood. Longitudinal data would allow for a closer examination of
whether there are stable themes within a family or whether the themes change
based on age of children. A glaring omission in this work has been an inclusion of the childs perspective on these stories. To date, we do not have a clear
picture of what the child is gaining (if anything) by hearing these stories. Furthermore, does it matter whether children hear the same story over and over
again, or is frequency of storytelling overshadowed by the themes inherent in
the stories? We would like to see the context of family stories expanded to
include direct links between story themes and child behavior.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Preparation of this manuscript was supported, in part, by a grant to the Wrst


author from the National Institutes of Health (MH51771).
REFERENCES
Bakan, D. (1966). The duality of human experience: Isolation and communion in Western man.
Boston: Beacon Press.
Dickstein, S., St. Andre, M., SameroV, A. J., Seifer, R., & Schiller, M. (1999). Maternal
depression, family functioning, and child outcomes: A narrative assessment. In B. H. Fiese,

276

FIESE AND BICKHAM

A. J. SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt, S. Dickstein, & D. L. Fravel (Eds.), The


stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs.
Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2), Serial No. 257 (pp. 84
104). Malden, MA: Blackwell.
Fiese, B. H. (1992). Dimensions of family rituals across two generations: Relation to adolescent identity. Family Process, 31, 151162.
Fiese, B. H., Hooker, K. A., Kotary, L., Schwagler, J., & Rimmer, M. (1995). Family stories in
the early stages of parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 763770.
Fiese, B. H., & Marjinsky, K. A. T. (1999). Dinnertime stories: Connecting relationship beliefs
and child behavior. In B. H. Fiese, A. J. SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt,
S. Dickstein, & D. Fravel (Eds.), The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative
interaciton, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2), Serial No. 257 (pp. 5268). Malden, MA: Blackwell.
Hollingshead, A. B. (1975). A four-factor classiWcation of social status. Unpublished manual.
New Haven, CT: Yale University.
Fiese, B. H., & SameroV, A. J. (1999). The family narrative consortium: A multidimensional
approach to narratives. In B. H. Fiese, A. J. SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt,
S. Dickstein, & D. L. Fravel (Eds.), The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2), Serial No. 257 (pp. 136). Malden, MA: Blackwell.
Fiese, B. H., & Skillman, G. (2000). Gender diVerences in family stories: Moderating inXuence of parent gender role and child gender. Sex Roles, 43, 267283.
Fiese, B. H., Tomcho, T., Douglas, M., Josephs, K., Poltrock, S., & Baker, T. (2002). Fifty
years of research on naturally occuring rituals: Cause for celebration? Journal of Family Psychology, 16, 381390.
Fivush, R., & FromhoV, F. A. (1988). Style and structure in mother-child conversations about
the past. Discourse Processes, 11, 337355.
Gilligan, C. (1982). In a diVerent voice: Psychological theory and womens development. Cambrdige, MA: Harvard University Press.
Glaser, B. G., & Strauss, A. (1967). The discovery of grounded theory: Strategies for qualitative
research. Chicago: Aldine.
Grotevant, H. D. (1993). The integrative nature of identity: Bringing soloists to sing in the
choir. In J. Kroger (Ed.), Discussions in ego identity (pp. 121146). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates.
Leach, M. S., & Braithwaite, D. O. (1996). A binding tie: Supportive communication of family kinkeepers. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 24, 200216.
Main, M., & Goldwyn, R. (1984). Predicting rejection of their infant from mothers representation of her own experience: Implications for the abused and abusing intergenerational
cycle. Child Abuse and Neglect, 8, 203217.
Martin, P., Hagestad, G. O., & Diedrick, P. (1988). Family stories: Events (temporarily)
remembered. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 50, 533541.
Martini, M. (1996). Whats new? at the dinner table: Family dynamics during mealtimes in
two cultural groups in Hawaii. Early Development and Parenting, 5, 2334.
McAdams, D. P. (1993). The stories we live by: Personal myths and the making of the self. New
York: William Morrow & Co., Inc.
Meske, C., Sanders, G. F., Meredith, W. H., & Abbott, D. A. (1994). Perceptions of rituals
and traditions among elderly persons. Activities, Adaptation, & Aging, 18, 1326.

11.

PA R E N TS S TO R I E S O F G ROW I N G U P

277

Miller, P. J., & Moore, B. B. (1989). Narrative conjunctions of caregiver and child: A comparative perspective on socialization through stories. Ethos, 17, 4364.
Miller, P. J., Wiley, A. R., Fung, H., & Liang, C. (1997). Personal storytelling as a medium of
socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68, 557568.
Murray, H. (1938). Explorations in personality. New York: Oxford University Press.
Nussbaum, J. F., & Bettini, L. M. (1994). Shared stories of the grandparentgrandchild relationship. International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 39, 6780.
Parke, R. D., & Buriel, R. (1998). Socialization in the family: Ethnic and ecological perspectives. In W. Damon (Ed.), Handbook of child psychology (Vol. 3, pp. 463552). New York:
Wiley.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1994). A social interactionist account of developing decontextualized narrative skill. Developmental Psychology, 30, 937948.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J., Arnold, M. L., & Filyer, R. (1999). Generativity and moral development as predictors of value socialization narratives for young persons across the adult lifespan: From lessons learned to stories shared. Psychology and Aging, 14, 414426.
Reese, E., Haden, C. A., & Fivush, R. (1993). Mother-child conversation about the past: Relationships of style and memory over time. Cognitive Development, 8, 403430.
Rosenthal, C. J., & Marshall, V. W. (1988). Generational transmission of family ritual. American Behavioral Scientist, 31, 669684.
Taylor, S. J., & Bogdan, R. (1998). Introduction to qualitative research methods (3rd ed.). New
York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
VeroV, J., Sutherland, L., Chadiah, L. A., & Ortega, R. M. (1993). Predicting marital quality
with narrative assessments of marital experience. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 55,
326337.
Wamboldt, F. S. (1999). Co-constructing a marriage: Analyses of young couples relationship
narratives. In B. H. Fiese, A. J. SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt, S. Dickstein,
& D. L. Fravel (Eds.), The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction,
and relationship beliefs. Monograph of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2),
Serial No. 257 (pp. 3751). Malden, MA: Blackwell.

12
The Cultural Context
of Parent-Child Reminiscing:
A Functional Analysis
Qi Wang
Cornell University

The social-interactionist approaches to cognitive development highlight the


developmental signiWcance of face-to-face interactions between the child and
more competent members of the society (Cole, 1996; Gauvain, 2001; RogoV,
1990; Vygotsky, 1978; Wertsch, 1991). Vygotsky (1978) contended that
development takes place when children internalize culturally valued skills,
knowledge, and concepts into their own mental framework, a process that
initiates between the child and the partner (e.g., parents, teachers, older siblings) and leads to higher mental functions in the child. RogoV (1990) further asserted that adult-guided participation serves as a forum of apprenticeships in thinking that provide the beginner with access to both overt aspects
of the skill and the more hidden inner processes of thought (p. 40). Thus,
by actively engaging in everyday joint activities, children gradually incorporate the meaning and utility of their cultures material and symbolic tools into
their own repertoire of thinking, and further develop culture-speciWc qualities
and competencies (Gauvain, 2001; Goodnow, 2000; Valsiner, 2000).
Building upon this conceptualization of cognitive growth as an active construction embedded in a social weave of shared activities, many memory researchers underscore parent-child conversations about the shared past and the
long-term consequences of such conversations for childrens autobiographical
memory (Fivush, 1994; Hudson, 1990; Nelson, 1993; Pillemer & White,
1989). Studies of reminiscing activities in European and Euro-American families have uncovered important factors, such as the amount and style of parentchild memory talk, in shaping childrens subsequent remembering (Harley &
Reese, 1999; Leichtman, Pillemer, Wang, Koreishi, & Han, 2000; Peterson &
McCabe, 1994; Reese, Haden, & Fivush, 1993; Tessler & Nelson, 1994). Par279

280

WA N G

ents who converse in a more elaborate, detailed manner tend to have children
who remember more information over time. Some researchers further maintain that parent-child reminiscing serves important functions beyond facilitating memory development: It is a primary channel through which children
learn how to formulate stories about themselves and further develop an enduring self-concept; it is also a crucial means by which children come to understand the social signiWcance of memory sharing (Fivush, 1994; Nelson, 1993).
Does parent-child reminiscing serve the same functions in other cultures?
Psychological and anthropological studies indicate that people in diVerent
cultures show varied orientations toward autonomy versus relatedness in their
cognition, emotion, and social behavior, orientations that are crystallized in
their cultural heritages, particularly related to the conception of self hood
(Geertz, 1973; Markus & Kitayama, 1991; Triandis, 1989; Wang & Brockmeier, 2002). The prevailing social orientation and view of the self in a particular culture may play a paramount role in determining the purposes for which
parents converse with their children about personal experiences from the past.
Empirical data have revealed marked cultural diVerences in the structural organization and thematic content of parent-child reminiscing (Miller, Fung, &
Mintz, 1996; Miller, Wiley, Fung, & Liang, 1997; Mullen & Yi, 1995; Wang,
Leichtman, & Davies, 2000; Wang, 2001a). Such diVerences may be mapped
onto the functional variation in everyday uses of memory across cultures.
The current emphasis on the functional aspect of sharing memory narratives reXects a general interest among philosophers and psychologists in the
functions of autobiographical memory. Studies have examined memory
functions from diVerent perspectives in areas of developmental, cognitive,
social, personality, and clinical research and have identiWed a variety of uses
ranging from self deWnition, relationship maintenance, and behavior guidance (e.g., Baddeley, 1988; Neisser, 1988; Pillemer, 1998). This chapter analyzes the cultural context of parent-child reminiscing from a functional perspective, using the three major functions of autobiographical memory
self, social, and directiveas a framework. I Wrst brieXy review theories of
memory functions that researchers have proposed based primarily on data of
Western populations. Then I discuss the various ways that culture may
shape each memory function and how that may result in diVerent contents and styles of family memory sharing. The discussion focuses on EuroAmerican and Chinese families, analyzing conversational excerpts collected
in our past studies of parent-child reminiscing in the two cultures.1 Build1 These conversations were collected in the cited empirical studies. They were not presented
in previously published papers except otherwise noted.

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

281

ing upon the empirical data, I demonstrate that the same memory functions
appear in nuanced versions across cultures and are manifested in everyday
personal storytelling, which creates diVerent cultural contexts of parentchild reminiscing.

A FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO MEMORY


AND MEMORY SHARING

The uses of memory give reasons for memory to persist. Many contemporary
researchers have emphasized the functions of autobiographical memory in
shaping the processes and consequences of remembering (Bluck & Alea,
2002; Bruce, 1989; Conway & Pleydell-Pearce, 2000; Hyman & Faries,
1992; Pillemer, 1998; Ross, 1989; Singer & Salovey, 1993). According to the
functional view, both encoding and retrieval of personal information strongly
depend on the structures of mental schemata containing an individuals
implicit self-theories, attitudes, and beliefs. Memories that are not consistent
with or functional to current goals are eventually either reconstructed or forgotten. Some researchers further underscore the importance of identifying
the primary functions of autobiographical memory, claiming that the major
purposes memory serves may directly aVect the organization of and access to
the memory system (Baddeley, 1988; Hyman & Faries, 1992; Neisser, 1988;
Robinson & Swanson, 1990).
Taking an adaptive evolutionary perspective, Nelson (1993, 1996) makes
an explicit distinction between the function of autobiographical memory
and other, earlier established (in development and evolution) memory systems. She contends that, through the medium of language, shared memory
narrative gives rise to an autobiographical memory system, which, once
established, serves as an important device for social solidarity and a necessary ingredient in the human concept of the self. Pillemer (1998, 2001) further elaborates on the various functions of remembering and recounting
personal event memories. In his theorization, adaptive functions entail the
real-world usefulness of memory in everyday life. Remembering and recounting past events, particularly those that are highly intense (e.g., trauma),
serve emotional or therapeutic functions. By learning from the past about
what is to be avoided in the future, one beneWts from the directive functions
of memory. And Wnally, narrative reconstruction of the past gives rise to the
believability and emotionality of a memory and makes possible its essential
communicative functions. Similarly, Robinson and Swanson (1990) suggest
that autobiographical memory serves at least four functions: interpretation

282

WA N G

of others actions, relationship maintenance, mood regulation, and selfdeWnition.


Studies with psychometric instruments of reminiscence functions have
also revealed similar uses that memories assume (Merriam, 1993; Romaniuk
& Romaniuk, 1981; Watt & Wong, 1991; Webster, 1993). For example,
Webster (1993, 1997) developed a 43-item Reminiscence Functions Scale
(RFS) in which participants indicate on a 6-point scale how often they reminisce with a particular function in mind. Webster administered the RFS to
710 adults ranging in age from 17 to 91 and identiWed eight functions:
1. Boredom reduction (reminiscence as a way to pass the time).
2. Death preparation (using the past to reach a sense of closure and
calmness).
3. Identity (using the past to discover, clarify, and crystallize ones sense
of self ).
4. Problem solving (remembering past problem-solving strategies for
the present purpose).
5. Conversation (reminiscence as a means of connecting with others in
an informal way).
6. Intimacy maintenance (using the past to resurrect thoughts and feelings about an important other).
7. Bitterness revival (remembering past events to justify negative
thoughts and emotions towards others).
8. Teach/inform (using reminiscence to relay to others instructional
information).
Most of the memory functions postulated in autobiographical memory
and reminiscence literature can be mapped onto three broad purposes of
memoryself (for self deWnition and regulation), social (for relationship creation and maintenance), and directive (for the guidance of behavior and
problem solving) (for reviews, see Bluck & Alea, 2002; Webster & Cappeliez,
1993). These memory functions have been identiWed among individuals of
diVerent ages, genders, and ethnic backgrounds (Pillemer, 1998, 2001; Webster, 2002). However, although these functions may be universal, the speciWc
ways they manifest may diVer markedly in diVerent cultures (Nelson, 1993;
Wang, 2003a; Wang & Brockmeier, 2002). By examining data on parentchild reminiscing in Euro-American and Chinese families, I show that cultural variations exist in the three primary functions of autobiographical memory. I here analyze each of the functions in turn, situating them in a cultural
context of family memory sharing.

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

283

THE SELF FUNCTION: MEMORY


AND CULTURAL CONSTRUCT OF THE SELF

Given that the central feature of autobiographical memory is self-relevance,


the prevailing view of the self in a particular culture may play a predominant
role in deWning memory functions. The societal emphasis on individuality
and autonomy in Euro-American culture facilitates the development of an
independent self. It is conceived of as a well-bounded entity comprising an
individuals private beliefs, attributes, and personality traits that are impervious to other people, social groups, or interpersonal contexts. In contrast, in
many East-Asian societies, like China, great emphasis is placed on group solidarity and interpersonal relatedness. Such a cultural ideology gives rise to an
interdependent self that is viewed as part of ongoing relationships, as
unbounded, and as containing signiWcant social roles, duties, and responsibilities (Geertz, 1973; Markus & Kitayama, 1991; Triandis, 1989). Notably,
these two modes of self-conception are not polarized categories. Many
researchers concur that the diVerences may well be a matter of degree, such
that the self in any given culture is bound to comprise both autonomy and
relatedness, with only the relative salience and prominence of each component diVering markedly across cultures (e.g., Barth, 1997; Harter, 1998;
Hollos & Leis, 2001; Spiro, 1993; RaeV, 1997; Wang & Li, 2003).
The culturally promoted self-conception may aVect the self-function of
autobiographical memory in two major ways (Wang, 2003a). First, a focus on
autonomy versus relatedness in the self inXuences the content and structure
of memories, which, in turn, reXect, express, and reinforce such a focus. For
independent selves, personal event memories with speciWc details and elaboration, especially those of one-moment-in-time events unique to an individual and with the individual cast as the central character (e.g., the time I won
the spelling bee competition), are an important way to diVerentiate the self
from others, thereby reaYrming the self as an autonomous entity. In contrast,
there may be less need for elaborate, detailed, self-focused autobiographical
memories among interdependent selves whose paramount concern is collectivity and interconnectedness. Memories in this case often concern script
events and preserve a salient social orientation (e.g., family dinners), which
help to engage individuals in ongoing relationships and social activities,
thereby reinforcing the self as a relational entity (Mullen, 1994; Wang, 2001b,
2004; Wang & Leichtman, 2000). Thus, by taking diVerent forms and
contents, autobiographical memories appear to sustain diVerent modes of
self hood in diVerent cultures.

284

WA N G

Second, cultural conceptions of self hood may determine the perceived


importance of autobiographical memory in constituting ones self and identity. It is a predominant view in Western philosophy and psychology that the
self is developed, expressed, and reconstructed from ones accumulated life
history (Bruner, 1990; Hume, 1739/1882; McAdams, 1993; Nelson, 1996;
Pillemer, 1998). As Polkinghorne (1988, p. 152) claims, the self is that temporal order of human existence whose story begins with birth, has as its middle the episodes of a lifespan, and ends with death. Through recollecting and
identifying with the past, even the most traumatically painful experiences,
ones existence is given meaning, purpose, and value (Antze, 1996; Herman,
1992; Lowenthal, 1985). In many East-Asian cultures, on the other hand,
the self is deWned less by ones unique autobiographical history but more
by an individuals place within his or her system of relationships (Markus &
Kitayama, 1991; Triandis, 1989; Wang, 2001b). Social status and roles, be it
as a member of a family, a profession, a group, or a nation, are regarded as
crucial elements constituting ones self and identity. Thus, autobiographical
memories seem more important to independent than to interdependent
selves in this respect. Indeed, Wang and Conway (in press) found in their
recent study that Euro-American middle-aged adults (M = 3.57) rated (on
5-point scales) their memories as more personally important than did Chinese (M = 2.94), regardless of the life period when the events occurred.
These diVerences in the self-function of memory are directly reXected in
the content and style of parent-child reminiscing in respectively cultures.
Comparative data have revealed that Euro-American parents often employ
what Fivush and colleagues (e.g., Fivush, 1994; Reese et al., 1993) termed a
high-elaborative conversational style. They often initiate lengthy memory
conversations with their children, scaVold the childs participation by providing embellished information about the past event, and invite the child to
co-construct a shared story. In addition, memory conversations between
Euro-American parents and children often focus on the childs roles, predilections, and feelings, with the child cast as the central character of the story
(Mullen & Yi, 1995; Wang, 2001a; Wang et al., 2000). Joint reminiscing, in
this context, serves as a forum of self-expressive behavior for the child. These
characteristics are illustrated in the following excerpt from a memory conversation between a Euro-American mother and her 3-year-old daughter (Wang
et al., 2000):
Mother (M): Do you remember when were at Nanas on vacation, and we went
down to the dock at Grandmommys? You went swimming?
Child (C): Um-hum.
M:
What did you do that was really neat?

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E X T O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:

C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:

285

Jump oV the dock.


Yeah. That was the Wrst time youve ever done that.
That was like a diving board.
Youre right, it was. And where did Mommy have to stand?
In the sandy spot.
In the sandy spot, right. Mommy said, Wait, wait, wait! Dont
jump til I get into my sandy spot!
Why?
Cause you remember how I told all the leaves pile up on the bottom of the lake? And it makes it a little mushy. And so, you
jumped oV the dock and then what did you do?
Swim.
To . . .
Nana.
Yeah. All by yourself with what on your back?
Bubbles.
Yeah.

Contrasting to the child-centered, high-elaborative conversational style of


Euro-American parents, parents in Chinese culture tend to use a hierarchically organized, low-elaborative conversational style (Wang, 2001a; Wang et
al., 2000). They often play a leading role during a memory conversation, posing pointed questions in an attempt to elicit single correct answers or yes/no
responses from children, with the conversation similar to a memory test. In
addition, the conversation often focuses on group activities and emphasizes
the importance of concerted actions. The following conversational excerpt
between a Chinese mother and her 3-year-old daughter illustrates these characteristics:
Mother (M): That day, mom took you to take a big bus and go skiing in the
park. What did you play at the place of skiing? What did you play?
Child (C): Played . . . played the . . .
M:
Sat on the ice ship, right?
C:
Yes. Then. . . .
M:
We two rowed together, right?
C:
Then . . . then . . .
M:
Then we rowed and rowed, rowed round a couple of times, right?
C:
Um.
M:
We rowed around a couple of times. Then you said, Stop rowing.
Lets go. Go home. Right?
C:
Um.
M:
Then we took a bus to go home, right?
C:
Um.

286

WA N G

Note that this Chinese mother-child pair indeed referred to fewer people
(i.e., mother and child) in their memory conversation than did the American
mother-child pair described earlier (i.e., mother, child, and Nana). However,
the American conversation focused more on what the child did (accomplished) in the past event, whereas the Chinese conversation focused more on
the activities of the we group. Both events were situated in a social context,
with the American child portrayed as a courageous little heroine and the Chinese child an integral part of a coordinated social unit.
These two revealing cases suggest that the self-function of autobiographical memory manifests in varied forms during parent-child reminiscing, which,
in turn, sustains the development of a particular mode of self-construct corresponding with the prevailing ideas of self hood in a given culture. Conversations that depict the child as a protagonist in coherent, elaborate, detailed
stories of the past highlight the importance of a unique autobiographical history in constructing an autonomous, independent self. In contrast, conversations that aim at getting correct information from the child and de-center the
focus of the past event on a collective group downplay the use of memory to
construct ones unique personal history. Instead, they situate the child in a
nexus of social roles, facilitating the development of a relational, interdependent self.

THE SOCIAL FUNCTION: WAYS


OF INTERPERSONAL CONNECTION

In relation to the social function, the extent to which memory and memorysharing serve to strengthen interpersonal ties may vary, depending on how
social boundaries are deWned and sustained in a given culture. In Euro-American culture, which promotes an independent self, individuals generally perceive themselves as separate relative to others, including signiWcant others
such as family members. To establish emotional intimacy or to maintain
social relations often requires not only desire but also eVort from all parties
involved. Sharing personal memories with others creates an optimal context
where such bonding can take place and take shape. It often elicits strong
empathic and emotional responses that serve to deepen the intimacy between
the conversational partners. Memory sharing in the family often occurs naturally at any place and any timedinner table, bathtub, pretend play, and
bedtime, during which parents and children co-construct a context of shared
experiences and further, shared thoughts and feelings. It is therefore an eVective and relatively eVortless way to strengthen emotional bonding between

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

287

parents and children and is viewed as a valuable childrearing practice (Fivush,


1994; Nelson, 1993; Pillemer, 1998).
In comparison, individuals in East-Asian cultures, which promote an interdependent self, often view the lines between themselves and others as Xuidly
deWned, with people in the social environment being considered as a consistent feature of the self. As a result, social relations in these cultures tend to be
less voluntary and eVortful. They are largely deWned and governed by strict
roles and group identities and often eVectively achieved through existing
social orders such as kinship and relational hierarchy (Hsu, 1953). Intentional recounting of ones past with others for the purpose of making social
connections may be unnecessary or even improper in this context. Accordingly, for Asian parents, it is more important during a memory conversation
to situate the child in a nexus of relational hierarchy and deWne the childs
right position in his or her social world (e.g., youre bigger than her, so you
should yield to her). In this way, the relationship between the child and a
signiWcant other is highlighted and reinforced, and the childs future behavior
in observance of the nature of this relationship is ensured.
Consistent with this view, empirical data have shown that compared with
Asian parents, Euro-American parents are often more eager to engage their
children in conversations of the past and focus more on the childs feeling
states during the conversation. Mullen and Yi (1995) observed American and
Korean mother-child conversations during an entire day. They found that
American mothers talked with their 3-year-olds about past events three times
as often as Korean mothers did. In a recent study, Wang (2001a) asked American and Chinese mothers to discuss with their children at home four past
events during which the child experienced happiness, sadness, fear, or anger.
American mother-child pairs used an emotion-explaining style in which
both conversational partners provided rich elaborations and explanations for
the antecedents of emotions. The focus on the childs emotions and the
mothers corresponding sympathetic responses would help to reinforce the
intimacy of a conversational exchange.
Chinese mother-child pairs, in contrast, employed an emotion-criticizing
style where emotion was instrumental for installing proper behavior in the
child rather than being a means of social bonding. During the conversations,
Chinese mothers initiated little discussion with their children about the antecedents of emotions and often gave moral judgments about childrens emotional experience or behavior. This use of emotional memory sharing is
vividly illustrated in the following dialogue: After a Chinese mother discussed
with her 3-year-old daughter about a past misdeed of the child, the mother
asked, Did you feel sad that you made a mistake? and the child answered,

288

WA N G

Very sad. The mother seemed satisWed, Xuexue is a good child. You understand that you made a mistake (Wang, 2001a, p. 712).
Interestingly, Wang (2001a) found that when a conversation involved a
social conXict between the child and a signiWcant other, Chinese mothers
(32%) were more likely than American mothers (5%) to provide a resolution
that helped to restore the damaged relationship. The following two conversational excerpts illustrate such a diVerence. The Wrst one is between an American mother and her 3-year-old daughter about an angry incident involving
the childs older brother:
Mother (M):
Child (C):
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:

Remember last night when you got very upset with Noah?
Yeah.
What happened?
I dont know.
He took your Pokemon ball . . .
Yeah!
Out of the toy drawer. Why did you get so upset?
Because . . . he took my Pokemon ball!
Did he think it was his?
Yeah!
And you thought it was yours?
It was mine.
Yeah. Are you sure?
Yeah.
Did he give it back to you?
No!
No. Im sorry that happened. It made you very upset.
Yeah.
Does that happen to you a lot?
Yeah.
Does Noah take your things? It must be hard being the youngest
one in the family. Is it hard? Or do you like it?
Its hard.

Here the mother, while sympathetic and responsive to the childs feelings,
did not intend to resolve the conXict between the child and her older brother.
Although such a social exchange may help to strengthen the relationship
between the conversational partners involved, it seems not to facilitate any
reconciliation with the third party.
The second conversation about an angry episode was between a Chinese
mother and her 3-year-old daughter:

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

Mother (M):
Child (C):
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:

289

Did we go mountain-climbing?
We did.
Who carried you up to the hill?
I dont know.
Who carried you the longest? Think hard.
Papa.
What did we do after coming down the hill?
I dont know.
Why do you always say I dont know? Think hard. Did we go
boat-rowing with Huzi brother?
Yes.
What did you want to do taking oV your shoes?
To step into the water. Papa didnt let me.
You were mad and cried, right?
Yes.
Papa was afraid you might catch a cold. He let you later, right?
Right.

Here the Chinese conversation was focused on reestablishing the relationship between the child and her perpetrator father who caused her a negative
emotion. The mother Wrst reminded the child how good her father was to her
(i.e., carrying her up to the hill) and then explained the good intention of her
father for not granting her wish (i.e., caring for her health). She further
emphasized what the father did eventually (i.e., allowing the child to step into
the water) and acquired consensus from the child. Little attention was paid to
the relationship between the actual conversational partners.
Thus, memory sharing in Euro-American and Chinese families serves the
social function in seemingly diVerent ways. American parents frequently initiate joint reminiscing, using it as an eVective means to develop and reinforce
emotional bonding with their children. The context of memory sharing is
often exclusive, focusing on the ongoing relationship between the conversational partners. Although the conversations often contain references to other
people and sometimes address interpersonal conXict between the child and a
third party, their central theme is the emotional exchange between the two
conversational partners who show concerns, articulate feelings, express sympathies, and develop intimacy.
In contrast, Chinese parents are less concerned with sharing experiences,
thoughts, and feelings with their children for the purpose of relationship
maintenance or extension. Their commentary on childrens feeling states
often intends to teach the child a lesson, rather than to help the child

290

WA N G

articulate and understand the emotion. Such conversations help to deWne the
childs right place in a nexus of relationships and, thereby, reinforce existing
social orders. The context of parent-child reminiscing tends to be inclusive,
paying great attention to the roles of signiWcant others who are not present
during the conversation. When a conversation invokes a social conXict between the child and a third party, Chinese parents often provide resolutions
to restore the relationship. Instead of making emotional connections between
the conversational partners, memory sharing in this case is used for reconciliation of the child with a signiWcant other and, thus, for the good of the larger
collective.

THE DIRECTIVE FUNCTION:


LESSONS FROM THE PAST

Finally, pertaining to the directive function, cultures may diVer in how much
they value the moral, social, and intellectual importance attached to past
events. In Chinese culture there is traditionally a great emphasis on history
and respect for the past, where learning implies full knowledge of the precedents of a past age (Nakamura, 1964, p. 205). Individuals are encouraged to
learn from experiences of the past lived by themselves, others, and their ancestors. The long-lasting inXuence of the Confucian fundamental concept of ren
( ), the supreme virtue of benevolence, moral vitality, and a sensitive concern for others, further gives the past its ultimate moral purpose. An individual is not born with but must learn to become ren, which is regarded as the
highest purpose of life and possible for anyone who seeks it in the Confucian
belief system. The ren pursuit requires self-reXection (zi-xing,
), an essential practice that urges individuals to examine their past mistakes on a daily
basis for the purpose of perfecting the self. Applying to childrearing, Chinese
parents and other socialization agents often unwittingly or deliberately draw
upon past events to convey moral messages to children, such as obedience to
authority, proper conduct, and a sense of belonging (Fang & Chen, 2001;
Hsu, 1953; Miller et al., 1997; Wang et al., 2000). Note that recollections
under these circumstances often focus on negative experiences of the individual or the child so that a lesson can be learned or taught.
Research has shown that didactic talk, where parents bring about the
childs past transgressions and explicitly instruct the child to observe the rules
and to behave properly in the future, is predominant in memory conversations of Asian parents and children. It is commonly observed in both semistructured parent-child reminiscing (Wang et al., 2000; Wang, 2001a) and

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E X T O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

291

naturally occurring family conversations (Miller et al., 1996, 1997; Mullen &
Yi, 1995). The following excerpt from a dinner-table conversation of a Chinese family demonstrates the characteristics of such a directive function of
memory sharing.2 The dinner conversation started with a discussion about a
transgression of the 4-year-old son, Bao Bao:
Mother (M):
Father (F):
M:
Child (C):
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
C:
M:
F:
M:
F:
M:

Bao Bao, did you tell papa what you did wrong today?
He made mistake again?
Did you tell Papa? Huh?
(makes noise, sounds like yes)
Huh?
Already told Papa.
You already told Mama, right?
Right.
Did you tell Papa? Papa doesnt know.
No.
What happened to you at Aunty Lees house?
Bao Bao didnt want to go in.
Hmm . . . you were at the door and didnt want to go in. And
then what?
Didnt play with Edward.
Hmm . . . you didnt want to play with Edward. Hmm . . . anything else?
At the staircase, didnt say bye-bye.
Hmm . . .
Didnt close the door properly.
Hmm . . . Did you hear, Papa?
I heard. Bao Bao told Papa already.
Already told Papa?
Papa already knew. Next time (Bao Bao) will behave better, right?
Next time dont make mistakes, okay?

As illustrated, even though Bao Bao initially seemed reluctant to talk about
what he did wrong that day, his mother insisted that he recount to his father
his every inappropriate behavior during a visit to a friends house. Under
his mothers prompts, Bao Bao did a wonderful job in his confession. This
family conversation served a directive function where, by making the child
reXect on his own past transgressions, the parents intended to install proper
2 The family participated in an ongoing longitudinal study that examines eVects of early
parent-child interaction on the development of memory, self, and emotion across preschool
years. Mothers recorded their family dinner-table conversations monthly over a 6-month
period.

292

WA N G

behavioral conduct in the child. The past event was portrayed with a moral
signiWcance that goes beyond the present reminiscing context and projects its
inXuence into the future.
Nothing comparable was observed in memory conversations between EuroAmerican parents and their children. Contrasting to Asian parents, American
parents rarely discuss childrens past transgressions for the purpose of correction, nor do they explicitly evaluate or criticize childrens rule-violating
behavior at the possible risk of damaging childrens self-esteem. Miller and
colleagues (1996, 1997) observed that American parents, in the rare instances
when they acknowledged the childs past transgressions, tended to downplay
the childs wrongdoing and to tell the story in a humorous, nonserious manner. For example, an American mother narrated a story about her 2-year-old
daughter who wrote on the wall with a key and then tried to evade responsibility for her misdeed by falsely blaming her sister. After telling the story in
front of the child, the older sister, and a visitor, the mother commented, But
its so funny. You look at her and shes like, I didnt use pencil (Miller et al.,
1996, p. 260). Obviously, the rule violation was not the main point of this
conversation. Instead of encouraging children to learn from their past mistakes, American parents often use the past to make children feel good about
themselves, in other words, to protect or enhance childrens self-esteem.
In general, individuals in Euro-American culture may not appreciate the
directive function of memories to the same extent as they do for the self
and social functions. Using two diVerent methods to solicit autobiographical memories, Hyman and Faries (1992) asked their U.S. participants to
describe previous times when they had consulted their memories of past
events. They found that self-deWnitional and social functions were very
common uses of autobiographical memories. People often told a personal
story to others for the purpose of describing themselves and solidifying relationships. In comparison, the directive function of memory was rarely evident in either of their two data sets. The researchers argued that, although
this Wnding might be related to their methodology, which did not provide a
problem-oriented context, it could also reXect that autobiographical memories were not particularly important for guiding behavior on a daily basis.
Consistent with this view, Wang and Conway (in press) found that, when
recalling life events, American middle-aged adults (9%) were less likely than
their Chinese counterparts (48%) to reXect upon mores or worldviews that
derived from or extended beyond the actual memories (e.g., Since then, I
have realized that there are more nice people than bad ones in this world,
and I learned that perfection takes practice). As mentioned earlier, learning-from-the-past modes of conversation are rarely observed between Euro-

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

293

American parents and their children (Miller et al., 1996, 1997; Mullen &
Yi, 1995; Wang et al., 2000).
The lack of emphasis on the directive function of memory may be historically patterned in the West such that the use of past experiences for value and
moral teaching is more readily observed in older than in younger generations
(Michael Pratt, personal communication). In a fast-changing society like the
U.S., the past and the present become so dissimilar sometimes that past experiences may no longer be valuable or informative to current situations. Nevertheless, the directive function of memory is not completely absent from modern life. Although not particularly focusing on the moral value of the past, as
the Chinese often do, Euro-American individuals do use their memories for
current problem-solving and behavior guidance. This is reXected in the following dialogue (Wang et al., 2000), where an American mother initiated a
memory conversation with her 3-year-old son that seemed to serve a directive
function in guiding the childs current behavior.
Mother (M): Why is this toy special? Why did we get this toy? Where did we go
to get this?
Child (C): At the toy store.
M:
We got it at the toy store. Why did I get this for you?
C:
Because Im trying to use a potty!
M:
Because youre gonna use the potty?
C:
Yeah.
M:
Yeah. And do you remember when we went to the toy store
together? What did we see there? What kinds of things did you
like that was at the toy store?
C:
Power Ranger guy.
M:
Power Ranger guy. . . . Oh. And tell me about . . . What was my
deal with you? Why did we decide to get this?
C:
Because gonna use a potty!
M:
Youre gonna to use the potty and what do you get to . . . What
does that mean? Do you wear diapers?
C:
No.
M:
What are you . . .
C:
Big boy pants.

During this memory conversation, the mother repeatedly prompted her


child to recount the reason for buying a special toy, that is, a reward for toilet
training. No explicit moral teaching was conveyed. However, implicit messages were delivered to remind the child of the decision (deal!) and thus to
reinforce the childs current behavior (i.e., wearing big boy pants) resulting
from the decision. Conversations like this one serve practical functions in

294

WA N G

utilizing the past to understand present situations, direct current activities,


and solve here-and-now problems.
Taken together, Chinese individuals often use past experiences for moral
and intellectual consultations, a practice necessary for the ren pursuit emphasized in Confucian ethics. Correspondingly, family reminiscing often
appears in a didactic mode where the childs past transgressions are frequently scrutinized and evaluated under the expectation that history will
not repeat itself. Such a directive function of memory and memory sharing
is less common in Euro-American culture, especially among younger generations. Euro-American parents are cautious of making explicit judgment
on childrens rule-violating behavior for the protection of their self-esteem.
On the other hand, in contexts where Euro-American individuals use their
memories for behavior guidance, the directive function of autobiographical
memory tends to take a diVerent form. In this case, past experiences are
instrumental for individuals current problem solving a pragmatic goal
(Hyman & Faries, 1992; Pillemer, 1998; Singer & Salovey, 1993), as
opposed to ones moral or intellectual self-perfection a metaphysical goal.
The focus of the reminiscing is now on the aYrmation of the present, rather
than the negation of the past. Recollections, therefore, often concern both
positive and negative experiences to inform current decisions and activities
(Pillemer, 2001).

MEMORY, CULTURE,
AND PARENT-CHILD REMINISCING

Analysis of parent-child sharing of memory narratives in Euro-American and


Chinese families indicates that family conversations about the past show
manifest variation in functions between the two cultures. The three primary
functions of autobiographical memoryi.e., self, social, and directive
appear in varied forms and focuses during American and Chinese parentchild reminiscing. Consistent with the cultural emphasis on individuality and
autonomy in deWning the self and in carrying out everyday social activities,
American parents use the joint conversational remembering as a means to
encourage the child to express himself or herself (self ), to elicit interest and
show concern to strengthen the parent-child relationship (social), and to
facilitate here-and-now, practical problem solving and guidance (directive).
In contrast, in accordance with the Chinese value of interrelatedness and collectivity, Chinese parents use memory sharing as an instrument to assimilate
the child into the larger collective (self ), to solve interpersonal conXicts and

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

295

promote social harmony (social), and to perfect a moral and intellectual being
as idealized by traditional Chinese teachings (directive).
The functional diVerences in parent-child reminiscing between EuroAmerican and Chinese families reXect diVerent socialization goals in the two
cultures, and appear to directly aVect the ways that children come to use their
memories. In studies (Han, Leichtman, & Wang, 1998; Wang, in press;
Wang & Leichtman, 2000) where preschool children were asked to independently recount their personal experiences, such as how they spent their
last birthday or a recent time when they felt a particular emotion (e.g., anger),
Chinese children focused more on skeletal routine events, talked more frequently about social interactions and group activities, and made more references to social rules and behavioral standards than did their American peers.
In contrast, American children provided elaborate accounts of personal experiences that often focused on detailed, one-moment-in-time events and
contained rich spontaneous references to personal predilections and opinions. Such structural and content diVerences in childrens autobiographical
memories mirror those between adults in Euro-American and Asian cultures
(Mullen, 1994; Wang, 2001b; Wang & Conway, in press).
Thus, early parent-child reminiscing serves as an ideal social context in
which parents transmit to their children culture-speciWc functions of memory
and memory sharing and encourage the development of culturally adaptive
qualities. The child-centered, highly elaborate conversational style of American parent-child pairs is well-suited to the goal of facilitating the development of childrens autonomy and individuality, whereas the didactic, grouporiented conversational style of Chinese parent-child pairs conveys to children
social rules and standards to build an aYliation with the larger society and
prepares children for the life-long ren ( ) pursuit. Consequently, before the
onset of formal schooling, children have already internalized culturally appropriate ways of reminiscing, using memory narrative as an eVective medium to
construe and express their belief systems acquired in a myriad of daily
exchanges with their parents and signiWcant others. This enculturational process is consonant with the social-interactionist view of cognitive development
that emphasizes the social contexts of acting, experiencing, collaborating, and
remembering (e.g., Fivush, 1994; Nelson, 1996; RogoV, 1990; Vygotsky,
1978). Through joint parent-child reminiscing, family narratives not only
serve as a model for children to construct their self-narratives, but eventually
become an integral part of their self-narratives.
Notably, the self, social, and directive functions of autobiographical memory denote particular ways of parent-child reminiscing that may be interconnected within each cultural context. For example, focusing on childrens

296

WA N G

development of autonomy and self-assertiveness (self ) may be linked to the


fact that American parents tend to avoid criticizing childrens past wrongdoings (directive) during memory conversations, whereas focusing on equipping the child with appropriate social roles and duties (self, social) may lead
Chinese parents to pay little attention to the personally unique aspects of past
events (self ) and to emphasize moral rectitude and behavioral standards to
their children (directive). Therefore, the three primary functions of memory
and memory sharing should not be viewed as isolated entities, but instead
interrelated dimensions of everyday memory uses as deWned by the sociocultural context where the reminiscing takes place.
Cultural variation in memory functions entailed in the context of parentchild reminiscing may be only one of degree, such that a particular version of
a memory function is more valued and therefore, more frequently implemented in the practice of conversational remembering in one culture than in
the other. It would be unwarranted to claim that a particular memory use is
completely absent in a culture. For example, individuals in Euro-American
culture also use memories as moral guidance (Lambek, 1996; Pillemer,
1998), although this use may appear to a lesser extent and in a more subtle
manner compared with that in Chinese culture. Obviously, much more
empirical research is required to examine how people use memory and memory sharing in service of particular goals across various situations, taking into
consideration the inXuence of the larger cultural milieu. Such research will
focus on the dynamic exchange between conversational partners such as family members, identifying important characteristics of reminiscing activities
within speciWc social contexts, and further explicating the nature of cultural
similarities and diVerences in memory use.
Of particular importance, sharing memory narrative as a crucial means
of coping with traumatic experiences has drawn wide attention in both
empirical and clinical research in European and American cultures (e.g.,
Antze, 1996; Fivush, in press; Herman, 1992; Young, 1996). It is less clear
how the therapeutic function of telling manifests in cultures that tend to
de-emphasize memory sharing. Studies with Western families have revealed
that family narrative interaction plays an important role in helping children
regulate and understand their emotions (Bretherton, Fritz, Zahn-Waxler, &
Ridgeway, 1986; Fivush, 1993; Sher-Censor & Oppenheim, this volume).
In contrast, emotion discourse is less frequent in East-Asian families, where
verbalization about feeling states is often treated as superXuous and even
improper (Bond, 1991; Ho, 1986; Hsu, 1953; Wang, 2001a). The diVerent
attitudes toward and styles of family discourse about emotions appear to have
long-term consequences on childrens emotional understanding (Wang,

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

297

2003b). We are currently conducting studies to further explore cultural variations in trauma-coping strategies during the act and process of telling family
stories.
Culture evokes functional variations in family reminiscing for the socialization of the young. The revealing cases of memory conversations in EuroAmerican and Chinese families suggest that the functions of sharing memory
narrative are not an intrinsic given, but a social creation, and hence subject to
variation across cultures. The functions of remembering and recounting personal experiences and the ways the functions are achieved are derived from
and shaped by a cultures philosophical and religious traditions, its structural
organization of the society and the family, and its prevailing ideas about the
self. The functional variations in family storytelling, in turn, have direct
impact on the developing child as well as on the dynamic system of the family. DiVerent cultural beliefs about memory usages are manifested in the processes and outcomes of everyday mnemonic activities, aVecting how personal
experiences are remembered and shared, and constituting a cultural context
of parent-child reminiscing.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I thank JeV Webster and Faith Markle for their thoughtful comments on an
earlier version of this manuscript.

REFERENCES
Antze, P. (1996). Telling stories, making selves: Memory and identity in multiple personality
disorder. In P. Antze & M. Lambek (Eds.), Tense past: Cultural essays in trauma and memory
(pp. 324). New York: Routledge.
Baddeley, A. (1988). But what the hell is it for? In M. M. Gruneberg, P. E. Morris, & R. N.
Sykes (Eds.), Practical aspects of memory: Current research and issues (Vol. 2, pp. 118). New
York: John Wiley & Sons.
Barth, F. (1997). How is the self conceptualized? Variations among cultures. In U. Neisser &
D. A. Jopling, The conceptual self in context (pp. 7591). New York: Cambridge University
Press.
Bluck, S., & Alea, N. (2002). Exploring the functions of autobiographical memory: Who do I
remember the autumn? In J. D. Webster & B. K. Haight (Eds.), Reminiscence work: From
theory to application (pp. 6175). New York: Springer.
Bond, M. H. (1991). Beyond the Chinese face. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press.
Bretherton, I., Fritz, J., Zahn-Waxler, C., & Ridgeway, D. (1986). Learning to talk about emotions: A functionalist perspective. Child Development, 57, 529548.

298

WA N G

Bruce, D. (1989). Functional explanations of memory. In L. W. Poon, D. C. Rubin, & B. A.


Wilson (Eds.), Everyday cognition in adulthood and late life (pp. 4458). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Bruner, J. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Cole, M. (1996). Cultural psychology. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Conway, M., & Pleydell-Pearce, C. W. (2000). The construction of autobiographical memories in the self-memory system. Psychological Review, 107(2), 261288.
Fang, H., & Chen, E. C. (2001). Across time and beyond skin: Self and transgression in the
everyday socialization of shame among Taiwanese preschool children. Social Development,
10, 420437.
Fivush, R. (1993). Emotional content of parent-child conversations about the past. In C. A.
Nelson (Ed.), Memory and aVect in development. Minnesota Symposia on Child Psychology,
26, 3977. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Fivush, R. (1994). Constructing narrative, emotions, and self in parent-child conversations
about the past. In U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds), The remembering self: construction and
accuracy in the self-narrative (pp. 136157). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Fivush, R. (in press). A feminist model of autobiographical memory. in J. Lucariello, J. A.
Hudson, R. Fivush, & P. J. Bauer (Eds.), The mediated mind: Essays in honor of Katherine
Nelson. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Geertz, C. (1973). The interpretation of cultures. New York: Basic Books.
Gauvain, M. (2001). Cultural tools, social interaction and the development of thinking.
Human Development, 44, 126143.
Goodnow, J. J. (2000). Combing analyses of culture and cognition: Essay review of mind, culture, and activity. Human Development, 43, 115125.
Han, J. J., Leichtman, M. D., & Wang, Q. (1998). Autobiographical memory in Korean, Chinese, and American children. Developmental Psychology, 34(4), 701713.
Harley, K. & Reese, E. (1999). Origins of autobiographical memory. Developmental Psychology,
35(5), 13381348.
Harter, S. (1998). The development of self-representations. In W. Damon (Ed.), Handbook of
child psychology, (5th ed., pp. 553617). New York: Wiley.
Herman, J. (1992). Trauma and recovery: The aftermath of violenceFrom domestic abuse to
political terror. New York: Basic Books.
Hollos, M., & Leis, P. E. (2001). Remodeling concepts of the self: An Ijo example. Ethos,
29(3), 371387.
Ho, D. Y. F. (1986). Chinese patterns of socialization: A critical review. In M. H. Bond (Ed.),
The psychology of the Chinese people (pp. 137). Hong Kong: Oxford University Press.
Hsu, F. L. K. (1953). Americans and Chinese: Purpose and fulWllment in great civilizations. New
York: The Natural History Press.
Hudson, J. A. (1990). The emergence of autobiographical memory in mother-child conversation. In R. Fivush & J. A. Hudson (Eds.), Knowing and remembering in young children (pp.
166196). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Hume, D. (1882). A treatise of human nature (Vol. 1). London: Longmans Green. (Original
work published 1739)
Hyman, I. E., & Faries, J. M. (1992). The functions of autobiographical memory. In M. A.
Conway, D. C. Rubin, H. Spinnler, & W. A. Wagenaar (Eds.), Theoretical perspectives on
autobiographical memory (pp. 207221). Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer Academic
Publishers.

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

299

Lambek, M. (1996). The past imperfect: Remembering as moral practice. In P. Antze &
M. Lambek (Eds.), Tense past: Cultural essays in trauma and memory (pp. 235254). New
York: Routledge.
Leichtman, M. D., Pillemer, D. B., Wang, Q., Koreishi, A., & Han, J. J. (2000). When Baby
Maisy came to school: Mothers interview styles and preschoolers event memories. Cognitive Development, 15, 116.
Lowenthal, D. (1985). The past is a foreign country. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Markus, H. R., & Kitayama, S. (1991). Culture and the self: Implications for cognition, emotion, and motivation. Psychological Review, 98(2), 224253.
McAdams, D. P. (1993). The stories we live by: Personal myths and the making of the self. New
York: Morrow.
Merriam, S. B. (1993). The uses of reminiscence in older adulthood. Educational Gerontology,
19, 441450.
Miller, P. J., Fung, H., & Mintz, J. (1996). Self-construction through narrative practices: A
Chinese and American comparison of early socialization. Ethos, 24(2), 237280.
Miller, P. J., Wiley, A. R., Fung, H., & Liang, C. H. (1997). Personal storytelling as a medium
of socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68(3), 557568.
Mullen, M. K. (1994). Earliest recollections of childhood: A demographic analysis. Cognition,
52(1), 5579.
Mullen, M. K., & Yi, S. (1995). The cultural context of talk about the past: Implications for
the development of autobiographical memory. Cognitive Development, 10, 407419.
Nakamura, H. (1964). Ways of thinking of Eastern peoples: India-China-Tibet-Japan. Honolulu:
East-West Center Press.
Neisser, U. (1988). Time present and time past. In M. M. Gruneberg, P. E. Morris, & R. N.
Sykes (Eds.), Practical aspects of memory: Current research and issues (Vol. 2, pp. 545560).
New York: John Wiley & Sons.
Nelson, K. (1993). Explaining the emergence of autobiographical memory in early childhood.
In A. F. Collins, S. E. Gathercole, M. A. Conway, & P. E. Morris (Eds.), Theories of memory (pp. 355385). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Nelson, K. (1996). Language in cognitive development: The emergence of the mediated mind.
New York: Cambridge University Press.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1994). A social interactionist account of developing decontextualized narrative skill. Developmental Psychology, 30, 937948.
Pillemer, D. B. (1998). Momentous events, vivid memories. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Pillemer, D. B. (2001). Momentous events and the life story. Review of General Psychology,
5(2), 123134.
Pillemer, D. B., & White, S. H. (1989). Childhood events recalled by children and adults. In
H.W. Reese (Ed.), Advances in child development and behavior (Vol. 21, pp. 297340). New
York: Academic Press.
Polkinghorne, D. E. (1988). Narrative knowing and the human sciences. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
RaeV, C. (1997). Individuals in relationships: Cultural values, childrens social interactions,
and the development of an American individualistic self. Developmental Review, 17, 205
238.
Reese, E., Haden, C. A., & Fivush, R. (1993). Mother-child conversations about the past:
Relationships of style and memory over time. Cognitive Development, 8, 403430.

300

WA N G

Robinson, J. A., & Swanson, K. L. (1990). Autobiographical memory: The next phase. Applied
Cognitive Psychology, 4, 321335.
RogoV, B. (1990). Apprenticeship in thinking: Cognitive development in social context. New
York: Oxford.
Romaniuk, M., & Romaniuk, J. G. (1981). Looking back: An analysis of reminiscence functions and triggers. Experimental Aging Research, 7, 477489.
Ross, M. (1989). Relation of implicit theories to the construction of personal histories. Psychological Review, 96, 341357.
Singer, J. A., & Salovey, P. (1993). The remembered self: Emotion and memory in personality.
New York: The Free Press.
Spiro, M. E. (1993). Is the Western conception of the self peculiar within the context of the
world cultures? Ethos, 21(2), 107153.
Tessler, M., & Nelson, K. (1994). Making memories: The inXuence of joint encoding on later
recall by young children. Consciousness and Cognition, 3, 307326.
Triandis, H. C. (1989). The self and social behavior in diVering cultural contexts. Psychological
Review, 96(3), 506520.
Valsiner, J. (2000). Culture and human development. London: Sage Publications.
Vygotsky, L. (1978). Mind in society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Wang, Q. (2001a). Did you have fun?: American and Chinese mother-child conversations
about shared emotional experiences. Cognitive Development, 16, 693715.
Wang, Q. (2001b). Cultural eVects on adults earliest childhood recollection and self-description: Implications for the relation between memory and the self. Journal of Personality and
Social Psychology, 81, 220233.
Wang, Q. (2003a). Infantile amnesia reconsidered: A cross-cultural analysis. Memory, 11(1),
6580.
Wang, Q. (2003b). Emotion situation knowledge in American and Chinese preschool children
and adults. Cognition & Emotion, 17(5), 725746.
Wang, Q. (2004). The emergence of cultural self-construct: Autobiographical memory and
self-description in American and Chinese children. Developmental Psychology, 40(1).
Wang, Q., & Brockmeier, J. (2002). Autobiographical remembering as cultural practice:
Understanding the interplay between memory, self and culture. Culture & Psychology, 8,
4564.
Wang, Q., & Conway, M. A. (in press). The stories we keep: Autobiographical memory in
American and Chinese middle-aged adults. Journal of Personality.
Wang, Q., & Leichtman, M. D. (2000). Same beginnings, diVerent stories: A comparison of
American and Chinese childrens narratives. Child Development, 71(5), 13291346.
Wang, Q., Leichtman, M. D., & Davies, K. (2000). Sharing memories and telling stories:
American and Chinese mothers and their 3-year-olds. Memory, 8(3), 159177.
Wang, Q., & Li, J. (2003). Chinese childrens self-concepts in the domains of learning and
social relations. Psychology in the Schools, 40(1), 85101.
Watt, L., & Wong, P. T. P. (1991). A taxonomy of reminiscence and therapeutic implications.
Journal of Mental Health Counseling, 12, 270278.
Webster, J. D. (1993). Construction and validation of the Reminiscence Functions Scale. Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, 48, 256262.
Webster, J. D. (1997). The Reminiscence Functions Scale: A replication. International Journal
of Aging and Human Development, 44, 137148.

12.

C U LT U R A L C O N T E XT O F PA R E N T- C H I L D R E M I N I S C I N G

301

Webster, J. D. (2002). Reminiscence functions in adulthood: Age, race, and family dynamics
correlates. In J. D. Webster & B. K. Haight (Eds.), Critical advances in reminiscence work:
From theory to application (pp. 140152). New York: Springer.
Webster, J. D., & Cappeliez, P. (1993). Reminiscence and autobiographical memory: Complementary contexts for cognitive aging research. Developmental Review, 13, 5491.
Wertsch, J. V. (1991). Voices of the mind: A sociocultural approach to mediated action. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Young, D. J. (1996). Remembering trouble: Three lives, three stories. In P. Antze & M. Lambek (Eds.), Tense past: Cultural essays in trauma and memory (pp. 2544). New York: Routledge.

13
Listening Is Active: Lessons
From the Narrative Practices
of Taiwanese Families
Heidi Fung
Academia Sinica, Taipei, Taiwan

Peggy J. Miller
Lu-Chun Lin
University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign

When your parents call for you, respond without delay; when your parents
issue an order, carry it out at the best of your ability; when your parents
give you instructions, listen with respect; when your parents rebuke you,
take it with an easy grace. . . . Whenever you speak, earnest comes Wrst;
deception and presumption: two evils to avoid; as for words, consider less
better than a lot; the more you speak, the more mistakes you are likely to
make; you speak less, good results are warranted . . .
Y. X. Li, Qing Dynasty, The Rules of the Disciples

We have been studying everyday socialization in Taiwanese families for more


than a decade, focusing on personal storytelling, shaming, and other valueladen discursive practices that help to orient young children within a moral
universe. One of our key Wndings is that Taiwanese families embrace a didactic orientation with unusual avidity and faith in the eYcacy of explicit teaching. Compared to their American counterparts, Taiwanese youngsters from
middle-class, urban-dwelling families routinely participate in narrative practices that resound loudly with didactic vibrations. They are exposed repeatedly
to parental and sibling voices who invoke moral rules, shame the child for
wrongdoing, distinguish sharply between right and wrong, remind and
re-remind the child of misdeeds committed in the distant past, and link here303

304

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

and-now transgressions to previous lapses. From an American standpoint,


this version of socialization may look rather monolithic and unilateral, with
children oVered little room to maneuver beyond either acceding to or defying
parental authority.
This is a misreading, however, for it presumes that to be cast in the listener
role is to be relegated to a position of passivity, weakness, and unquestioning
submission. In this chapter we argue that a strikingly diVerent version of listening lies at the heart of Taiwanese didacticism, a version that links listening
to active sense making, reXectiveness, and moral agency.
Where does this version of listening come from? Traditional Chinese models of communication, inXected in a Confucian direction, are one likely source.
We consider this possibility in the next section of the chapter, followed by a
description of the complex mix of Western and neo-Confucian practices that
characterize contemporary Taiwan. We then turn to a summary of our past
Wndings pertaining to everyday narrative practices in families. This sets the
stage for a close analysis of young children listening to stories in two extended
examples. We conclude the chapter on a reXexive note. That is, we use this
foray into Taiwanese storytelling to reXect on the study of narrative by Western researchers. We argue that the Taiwanese inclination to privilege the listener role challenges developmental researchers to re-think the contribution
of listening to narrative development.

CONFUCIAN ROOTS OF CHINESE


COMMUNICATION STYLE

Regardless of the particular language employed, human communication involves ambiguity, requiring that listeners make inferences in order to comprehend the speakers intended meaning (Scollon & Scollon, 1995). Scholars
have argued, however, that styles of communication in cultures that have
been inXuenced by Confucianism are especially likely to exploit ambiguity
as a communicative resource, thereby placing heavy demands on listeners
(Clancy, 1986; Cook, 1999; Gao, 1998; Gao, Ting-Toomey, & Gudykunst,
1996; He, 2001; Young, 1994; Yum, 1991). The Confucian character of
Chinese communication style is often discussed along two dimensions: an
emphasis on hierarchical structure and role diVerentiation at the interpersonal level, and a distinctive view of language that emphasizes the individuals
moral character.
Regarding the social aspect, Confucianism places a high value on proper
human relationships (yi ) and on propriety (li ). The Chinese self is deWned by

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

305

its embedded multiple layers of interpersonal relationships, and each person


is expected to be sensitive to his or her position in relation to others. It is ones
role and status rather than the self alone that determine how one should act
or talk. In ancient China, speaking was a privilege of the elite; the superior
and the more knowledgeable spoke while the inferior and the less knowledgeable listened (Gao, 1998; Gao et al., 1996; Yum, 1991). Because children
rank at the bottom of the hierarchical structure, the ability to listen is, therefore, highly emphasized as a major mode of communication for children
(Gao, 1998, p. 173). In Chinese, a good child is literally a child who listens
to words (tinghua).
Moreover, to harmoniously maintain and develop hierarchical interpersonal relationships and obligations deWned by roles, implicit and indirect
communication becomes highly desirable. Verbal expressions among Chinese
are highly context dependent, rich in connotation and evasive in denotation.
There are patterned verbal as well as nonverbal maneuvers to express degrees
of politeness and to preserve one anothers face. Hence, in contrast to the
English-speakers outcome-oriented view of communication in which the
speaker is responsible for the clarity of the message, Chinese communication
is much more process-oriented, involving an intricate interpretive process
with a particular burden on the receivers end (Yum, 1991).
In addition to the rules imposed on interpersonal relations, Confucianism
embodied a particular view of language. When asked what makes a true
scholar, Confucius presented three features in the following order: a sense of
shame, being Wlial and fraternal, and sincerity in word and deed (Chang,
1997). Although Confucius had little faith in verbal expression and skills, he
did not argue against people who are talented speakers, nor did he see language only as a tool for preaching. Nevertheless, since speech must correspond with ones inner state and reXect the cultivation of virtue, a gifted
speaker should be sincere and truthful in what he says and trustworthy and
circumspect in what he does. At the same time, he should demonstrate the
Xexibility and sensitivity that allows him to be attuned to diVerent situations
and diVerent types of relationships.
A cautious speaker avoids making the mistake of speaking before the time
to speak, not speaking when it is time to speak, and speaking without observing the superior mans countenance (Chang, 1997). The eVectiveness of
words, however, does not come from ones ability to articulate language or
construct images, because if he is sincere and virtuous, the listener will accept,
trust, and be moved by him regardless of the words chosen. As annotated by
Soothill (1968) in his translation of The Analects of Confucius, To hear and
observe much is the widening of culture; to reserve the doubtful and risky is

306

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

the essence of selection (discretion); to speak and act warily is the restraining
advantage of self-control (p. 168).
In sum, the Confucian perspective on interpersonal relationships and language implies an asymmetrical style of communication and an emphasis on
attentive observing and listening. As Gao (1998) has said, Chinese communication appears to be passive in speaking, but it emphasizes activeness in
listening (p. 174). Moreover, the model of communication embodied in
ancient Confucian texts has modern reverberations, a claim that is developed
further in the next sections of this chapter. For example, according to contemporary indigenous models of learning, Chinese learners are encouraged to
observe and prioritize actions ahead of words (Li, 2001).

CONTEMPORARY TAIWAN: A CONFLUENCE


OF NEO-CONFUCIAN AND WESTERN CURRENTS

Taiwan is a small island that lies oV the southeastern coast of China. It has a
population of 23 million, most of whom are descendants of diVerent waves of
Chinese migrants. In the past several decades, Taiwan has witnessed phenomenal economic growth, moving from an agrarian to a consumer economy, and drastic sociopolitical changes, transforming from a one-party dictatorship into a full democracy. In addition, with increasing globalization,
advancement of technology and expanding Internet communities, dissemination of popular culture (particularly from Korea and Japan), Xourishing
tourism, and growing international migration, Taiwanese people are increasingly exposed to cultures other than Chinese. Children growing up today in
Taiwan, and especially in Taipei, its capital city, inhabit a world signiWcantly
diVerent from that of their parents and grandparents.
As Taiwanese society becomes much more pluralistic and individualistic,
people are confronted with multiple and contesting cultural models and have
to reconstruct, reinterpret, or redeWne their beliefs and practices in creative
ways. For instance, based on an analysis of recently published popular books
in Taiwan, Chang (2001) discovered two countervailing trends: an everincreasing number of translated books that purport to teach people how to
communicate in a Western style, and re-valuing and elevation of Chinese cultural traditions. In response to challenges from the West, and in line with the
need to use words to navigate a vibrant democratic society, books by local
authors redeWne Chinese cultural tradition as embracing eloquent speaking
skills (rather than merely emphasizing listening and humility) and call for
readers appreciation of verbal skills employed by ancient Chinese philoso-

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

307

phers and politicians. Chang (2001) noted that instead of adopting the stepby-step instruction characteristic of most translated Western books, local
authors expect readers to look for the lessons in stories about how exactly
ancient peoples verbal skills led them to accomplish important tasks. Paradoxically, the act of redeWning the tradition is also an act of revitalizing the
historical past.
The Confucian past has also been re-envisioned by parents and educators.
Parents of preschoolers often solicit child-rearing and educational advice from
materials translated from Japanese or English sources and from professionals
who are educated in foreign countries. Sending children to all English or
bilingual kindergartens is an increasing trend, which makes the English
teaching business, franchised or independently run, a thriving industry.
Parents concern with how to make their youngsters globally competitive
coexists with a pedagogical revival of classical primers in kindergartens and
primary schools. Local advocates distribute free copies of classical primers to
kindergartens and schools, oVer workshops that train teachers in traditional
pedagogy, and organize childrens reciting contests island-wide. Children are
encouraged to memorize and recite these texts in a manner that diVers little
from the pedagogical practice of hundreds of years ago. The rationale is
phrased in both market and moral terms. The former includes stimulating
the functioning of the brain, exploring the childs potentials, and improving
intelligence and memory, whereas the latter includes purifying the childs
mind and stabilizing his or her disposition, correcting the chaotic, disordered
society, and continuing Confucian traditions.
One of the most popular classical primers adopted by Taiwanese parents
and teachers is The Rules of the Disciples, a portion of which is quoted at the
beginning of this chapter. This book was originally written by a scholar, Yu-xiu
Li (16621722), in the Qing Dynasty and contains 90 four-line rhymed
verses with three characters to each line (i.e., 1,080 characters in total). This
primer oVers concrete, extensive, and detailed instructions on how a young
person should act and behave in daily life. These instructions were derived
from a passage in The Analects of Confucius, which reads as follows:
A young man should be a good son at home and an obedient young man
abroad, sparing of speech but trustworthy in what he says, and should love the
multitude at large but cultivate the friendship of his fellow men. If, after all
these activities, he has any energy to spare, let him use it to making himself cultivated. (I, 6, translated by Lau, 1992, pp. 35).

Apparently, the revival of interest in ancient Confucian primers has spread


to some Chinese American parents as well. A long-time friend of the Wrst

308

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

author, who is a mother of three children and a teacher at a Chinese heritage


language school in Tennessee, reports that after acquiring a copy of The Rules
of the Disciples from a teacher in Taiwan, their community school has decided
to incorporate it into the curriculum, along with etiquette training. She explains that it is important for them, as teachers and parents, to not only pass
on the Chinese language to their American-born children but to teach them
how to be a proper Chinese person.

CONFUCIAN ECHOES IN EVERYDAY


NARRATIVE PRACTICES

The foregoing discussion suggests that Confucian perspectives are discernible


in the complex and shifting conXuence of cultural currents that are reshaping
Taiwanese understandings of communication and of classroom pedagogy.
But what about the informal, taken-for-granted practices of everyday family
life? This is the arena in which our research is situated (Fung, 1999; Fung &
Chen, 2001; Miller, 1996; Miller, Mintz, Hoogstra, Fung, & Potts, 1992;
Miller, Fung, & Mintz, 1996; Miller, Wiley, Fung, & Liang, 1997; Miller,
Sandel, Liang, & Fung, 2001). The families in our study were relatively privileged: The parents were middle-class, highly educated, and owned their own
apartments in Taipei. They spoke Mandarin Chinese with their children, and
most had some Western ties (e.g., a relative living in the United States). Our
approach involved ethnographic Weldwork, repeated video-recorded observations of ordinary family life, and interviews with the mothers. In one strand
of this work, we have compared these families with their European-American
counterparts in Longwood, a neighborhood in Chicago (Miller et al., 1992,
1996, 1997, 2001).
To greatly oversimplify our Wndings, we have found evidence that a strongly
didactic and distinctively Confucian perspective informs the Taiwanese parents avowed beliefs about childrearing and their childrearing practices, especially their narrative practices. In interviews, parents express their belief in
early training and opportunity education ( jihui jiaoyu) (Fung, 1999). The
latter notion encompasses two interlinked ideas: it is more eVective to situate a
moral lesson in the childs concrete experience than to preach in the abstract,
and parents should take every opportunity to provide such concrete lessons.
In the observational data, parents assiduously enact their commitment to the
moral education of children as young as 2;6 (Miller et al., 1996, 1997, 2001).
This occurs both in co-narrations, in which the young child tells a story of
his or her past experience in collaboration with one or more family members,
and in stories that care givers tell about the child in the childs presence. In the

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

309

latter practice, the child contributes little if anything to the narration but is
present as a co-present other and possible listener. Interestingly, this participant structure accounts for more of the stories of personal experience for the
Taipei children, compared with the Longwood children.
An important part of the Taiwanese parents didactic practice involves
pointing out to the childagain and againwhere he or she went wrong.
For instance, 35% (as opposed to 7% in the observed European-American
families) of the spontaneously occurring family stories (involving both conarrations and stories about the child) invoke a past misdeed committed by
the focal child (Miller et al., 1997). These youngsters are exposed to a steady
stream of stories, about one per hour on average, in which they are cast as
transgressors in some past event.
Moreover, with regard to the structure and content of these stories, the
childrens transgressions are not handled with kid gloves (Miller et al., 1996,
2001). Their transgressions are talked of openly, publicly, and explicitly, often
in strong language. Transgression stories are constructed so as to establish the
childs transgression as the point of the story. Sometimes family members
shame the child (You made your mother lose face. Arent you ashamed of
yourself ?). Sometimes they try to extract confessions from the child (Tell
me why did you go in there? Would you do it again?), and sometimes they
end the story with a didactic coda that draws out the moral of the story
(Now I dont cry at all. Saying dirty words is no good.). Many of the
transgression stories are occasioned by a misdeed in the here-and-now, suggesting that these are occasions when parents put into practice their beliefs
about opportunity education. They treat the childs current misdeed as an
opportunity to remind the child of a previous misdeed, thereby reinforcing
and personalizing moral lessons through concrete exemplars. Thus, the child
may hear particular misdeeds narrated again and again. In short, children
repeatedly encounter and participate in descriptions of themselves as failed
moral actors. Parents, for their part, cannot escape the burden of being alert
to their childrens misdeeds, of keeping account of past transgressions, and of
remaining vigilant for opportunities to guide and correct, if they are to discharge their responsibilities as moral educators of their children.

YOUNG CHILDREN AS ATTENTIVE


AND CREATIVE LISTENERS

Are these recurrent messages of failure overwhelming to 2-year-olds? As they


rank at the bottom of the social hierarchical structure, do these young children have no choice but to listen? Will these practices create in the children

310

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

an unthinking and docile obedience while undermining their faith in their


ability to act? Is there room for young children to construct their own sense
of moral rules and to engage in self-directed moral action? In this section we
present two extended examples that illustrate that young children do, in fact,
listen creatively and construct novel meanings within narrative discourses of
moral scrutiny and may even turn the tables on their care givers, demonstrating just how well they have learned to exercise independent moral judgment.
Yoyos Novel Response

This co-narration occurred when Yoyo was 2 years old. Immediately before
the co-narration, Yoyos brother, age 6, recited the lion story from Esops
Fables, which his grandmother had read to him the previous day. The grandmother, who was sitting on the sofa, asked how smart Yoyo was compared to
that stupid lion. She then initiated the following interaction as a way of
demonstrating how smart he is. As she did so, she pulled him closer to her
and held him in her arms.
Example 1
Grandmother (GM): Oh, yes, this morning, when Mom was spanking you,
what did you say? You said, Dont hit me, right? Then,
what did Grandma tell you what to say?
Child (C):
(quietly) [I] wont push the screen down [again]. (GM
lowers her head and puts her ear next to Cs mouth)
GM:
Oh right. What would you say to your mom?
C:
I would say to Mom, I wont push the screen down.
(raises his head and speaks in a very low tone into
GMs ear)
GM:
Oh, you would say to Mom, Mama, I wont push the
screen down [again], oh?
C:
Hmn. (nods)
GM:
So, Mom wouldnt hit you. Right, oh? If you asked Mom,
You dont hit me, Mom would have hit you, right?
C:
Right. (nods)
GM:
So you would directly say to Mom in this way, Mom, I
wont push the screen down. Then how would Mom
have reacted?
C:
Wont hit. (almost unintelligible)
GM:
What? (lowers her head and expects C to speak louder)
C:
Wont hit. (quietly)
GM:
Then she wouldnt hit you, right? Oh. Next time when

13.

LISTENING IS ACTIVE

C:
GM:

Researcher (R):
GM:

C:
GM:
C:
GM:

311

Mom is going to spank you, which sentence is better for


you to say to her?
Hmn. Hmn. Say, I wont, I wont push the screen down.
(raises his head up and talks into GMs ear)
Oh, yes, now you have choices. You say, Mom, I wont
push the screen down. In that way, Mom wont spank
you. So next time when Mom is spanking you, you
shouldnt say, You dont hit me (raises her voice and
stamps on the Xoor with her right foot). You dont hit me
(raises her voice and stamps on the Xoor again). You
shouldnt talk that way.
(laughs)
[If ] you say, Dont hit me (raises her voice and stamps on
the Xoor), Mom would even hit more (gently hits Cs
butt). Right? Instead, [if ] you say to Mom, I wont push
the screen down. What would mom do to you?
(slightly bends forward) [Will give me] a tender touch.
(in Taiwanese dialect, almost unintelligible)
What?
A tender touch. (in Taiwanese dialect)
A tender touch. Ah, she would give you a tender
touch. (both times in Taiwanese dialect) Ah. (laughs
loudly, picks up Yoyo, sits him on her lap and holds him
tightly)

In this example the grandmother invited the child to review an incident


that happened earlier in the day in which his mother spanked him for playing with a screen (which divides the living room and the dining area). She
focused her didactic eVorts on the childs response to having committed the
misdeednamely, that he said, Dont hit me! to his mother which itself
constituted a misdeed from the mothers perspective. The grandmother
patiently took the child through the incident, pointing out where he went
wrong and rehearsing with him what he should have said, invoking hypothetical and future scenarios. Eventually, apparently satisWed that the child
understood how to behave when his mother corrects him, the grandmother
explained to him that now he has choices about how to act in the future.
This stretch of interaction involves true/false questions, either/or options,
lengthy rehearsals, and a lesson that moves rapidly from the past, to the hypothetical, to the future. The logical connection that the grandmother is at
pains to explain is presumably not easy for a 2-year-old to grasp: begging not
to be punished ironically invites more punishment. Without explicitly directing the child to listen attentively, the grandmother seems to assume that Yoyo

312

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

is able to follow a complex line of cognitive and moral reasoning on the spot.
She seems to implicitly trust in his ability to exercise sound moral judgment
in the future.
For our purposes what is most intriguing about this example is the way
that Yoyo responds. Throughout this lengthy episode he is highly attentive to
his grandmother. Most of his responses are of two sorts: he repeats words, preselected for him by his grandmother, or he nods verbally or nonverbally, indicating assent to what she is saying. If we focus only on Yoyos initial responses,
we might be tempted to think that he was, at best, merely parroting what his
grandmother said. Toward the end of the episode, however, he comes up with
his own novel contribution, one that surprises and delights the grandmother.
When Yoyo forecasts that his mother will give him a tender touch, he conveys his faith that next time he will make the right choice and that the right
choice will restore his mothers love. In other words, as expected by his grandmother, Yoyo not only listens and comprehends but also joins her to reXect
upon his own behavior and project a better self.
Another remarkable feature of Example 1 is that it is the last in a series of
Wve thematically linked retellings of the same events. These retellings,
which unfolded over the course of an hour and a half, pertained to two consecutive transgressions that Yoyo had committed earlier in the day: he played
with a screen, imperiling a vase of Xowers, and then he protested when his
mother left for work.
While the Wrst and third tellings focused on Yoyos inappropriate crying
and yelling in the not letting the mother go incident, the second telling, a
co-narration, focused on the rules that were invoked in connection with the
Wrst transgression. In response to the grandmothers prompts What did
Mom say? Dont touch the Xowers, right? When did Mom say it? How
many Xowers did Mom hand over to you?Yoyos brother reported, This
morning, Mom said, not even one bud of the roses (which were put in a vase
and placed in front of the screen) should be missing. The screen should not
be pushed down either. Yoyo then repeated after him, The screen should
not be pushed down either. The grandmother then brought up yet another
transgression that occurred some days earlier in which the children knocked
down the screen, and the brother added that the wooden pieces fell apart and
later had to be glued together.
The fourth telling was a detailed depiction of what happened in both incidents. In this story about the child, Yoyos grandmother and his older brother
recounted, in Yoyos presence, that while the mother was rushing oV to work,
Yoyo yelled at her Wercely from the balcony, Come back, come back, I say
Mommy be back. Come back to me. The grandmother then related that, in

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

313

fact, just a brief while earlier, Yoyo had been spanked by his mother for playing with the screen. Yoyos older brother explicated the rule: Mom said we
cannot play with the screen, because if the screen is knocked down, it will
fall down onto these roses, and the roses will break and die. Therefore she
spanked Yoyo. From the second telling, we realize that the mothers reprimand must have served to forestall a more serious transgression knocking
down and breaking the screenwhich had happened on a previous occasion.
Thus, when Example 1 is examined in the context of the previous retellings, it is striking how much time and energy this family spent reviewing
Yoyos misdeeds. Equally striking, Yoyo accepted these critiques with patient
forbearance, even when his older brother joined in. Yoyo listened attentively,
admitted to his wrongdoing, rehearsed rules for appropriate conduct, and
imagined doing better in the future. Notice too that the retellings varied in
subtle ways, highlighting diVerent facets of the past events, making links to
other events, developing slightly diVerent moral implications. This is typical
of the way that childrens transgressions are narrated in the Taiwanese families. Retellings diVer in terms of the immediate contexts out of which they
arise, what gets foregrounded as the main point, the perspectives that the care
giver takes (e.g., in addition to invoking rules and judging the child, the care
giver may also sympathetically mitigate or explain the event from the childs
stance), how the child is portrayed in the narrated event, and the participant
roles into which he is cast in the here-and-now narrative activity (e.g., copresent other, listener, co-narrator).
It is likely that the frequent but variable retelling of childrens past transgressions promotes listening because the child is called upon to make diVerent responses each time, even when the same event is recounted. Unlike the
European-American children studied by our research team (Miller et al.,
2001; Mintz, 1999), these children do not get oV the hook with an admission
of wrongdoing or a brief apology. Also, as Example 1 demonstrates, these narrative practices are embedded in and linked to other nondidactic practices,
involving love, care, and aVection. The intertwining of these sentiments with
discourses of moral scrutiny and evaluation may allow the child to hear critiques without rebelling or becoming discouraged.
Angu Challenges Her Aunt

The next example illustrates that not speaking may reXect active listening and
that a 4-year-old can be a formidable moral critic. Angu was a very bright,
appealing, well-loved, and verbally precocious child, and she was the recipient of some of the longest and most intense shaming interactions among the

314

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

observed families. The incident in question occurred toward the end of our
longitudinal study; by this time the researcher and the family had known each
other for 2 years.
When the researcher arrived at the door on this particular day, Angus aunt
was scolding her severely for spilling food and behaving inappropriately at
the table. (The aunt was the primary care giver; Angu lived with her and
addressed her as mama.) Angu ceased misbehaving but the reprimand continued for almost 10 minutes. The researcher did not feel at ease and asked if
she should leave and come again at another day. Apparently, the aunt was not
in a good mood; she was in failing health and she was exhausted from taking
care of both Angu and her newborn baby sister. As she listened to her aunts
reprimand, Angu made faces at the researcher, indicating her displeasure with
her aunt. After several prompts by the aunt and the researcher, Angu cautiously and reluctantly recounted how she celebrated her birthday 2 days earlier, including that her aunt had spanked her for rushing into a pile of dishes.
Throughout the Wrst hour of the observational session, the aunt occasionally
shouted at and harangued Angu and brought up her past misdeeds. Angu
bore this long period of tense interaction in silence.
The really interesting part happened about an hour and a half later. When
the aunt had become much more relaxed, Angu playfully argued with her
as to whether Angu or her 5-month-old baby sister made more noise. Then
Angu suddenly changed the topic and began to challenge her aunts mishandling of her previous transgressionsrushing into dishes on her birthday
and spilling food. Although the aunt never apologized, she recognized Angus
anger and allowed her to talk back and make her point.
Example 2
Child (C): (index Wnger pointing at Aunt) Mama, Im asking you a question.
When I kicked the dishes, kicked [them] far away, why were you
unreasonable to me? Tell me. (holds up her chin with a scornful attitude) Hum!
Aunt (A): In what way was I unreasonable? You knocked over my dishes, ping
ping pang, to that far. You kicked it all the way, kicked ping pang
to that far. What did you do? Early in the morning, you kicked
dishes, from that. . . . How come you didnt walk carefully but
instead rushed into all those dishes, which were all broken by your
kick?
C:
Because I fell! (very loudly)
A:
Why did you fall? How come you didnt know how to walk? (looks
down and talks to the baby sister who is drinking milk in her arms)
Your sister is quarreling. Boy, isnt she mad. (laughs, looks up and

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

C:
A:
C:
A:
C:

A:
C:

315

talks to Angu again) Why did you [do that], you give me a reason
for that.
Disgusting! (loudly)
Huh? Right? Why every day you cannot . . . (interrupted by C)
Not right! (loudly)
Why cant you ever sit properly when you eat? And then, whatever
you eat [or drink], you spill. Whatever you eat, you spill.
(in a very serious tone) But why didnt you reason with me nicely?
Its not that you didnt have Daddy and Mommy. You had Daddy
and Mommy before. When you were young, didnt you ever spill?
Me? I was very well-behaved. I never spilt food.
Really?

Finding her aunts claim of childhood perfection incredible, Angu decided


to call her grandmother on the phone to get the real scoop on her aunt.
Unfortunately, her grandmother was not at home and thus the conXicting
claims about the aunts unblemished childhood could not be resolved. Angus
arguments were well grounded from her perspective. Knocking down the
dishes was not an intentional act but caused by tripping; besides, it was her
birthday so her aunt should have been kinder. As for spilling food, since the
aunt was once young, she should have been more sympathetic.
The timing of Angus challenge is also of interest. Although she remained
cautiously quiet during her aunts prolonged reprimand and ensuing accusations, she attentively observed the superiors countenance, and waited
for an auspicious moment in which to upbraid her. Moreover, her protest
seems to imply that if the aunt fails to reasonably discipline her on justiWable
grounds, she may refuse to listen to her in the future.
In sum, these analyses illustrate a mode of interaction in which care givers
and other family members assume the role of moral guide and critic, leading
young children through the lessons inherent in their own past misdeeds,
while young children assume the reciprocal role of attentive listener. These
youngsters make substantial verbal contributions to the stories being narrated; in this sense, they are co-narrating stories with family members. However, the term co-narrator is something of a misnomer in this case, emphasizing narrating at the expense of listening. We suggest that listening/learning
would better capture the local meaning of the childs part in this narrative
activity. Care givers structure childrens participation in a manner that casts
the child in the role of listener/learner, treating all of the following as evidence
that the child is listening: silent attentiveness, verbal and nonverbal gestures
of assent, repetition of the caregivers utterances, novel verbal responses, and
even critiques of the care giver.

316

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

These and other routine moral discourses aVord young Taiwanese children
many opportunities to reXect on their own conduct. Although they engage in
a kind of moral self-scrutiny that is modeled and structured in starkly blackand-white terms, they are also invited to make their own contributions to the
discourse. Care givers hold young children to high standards of moral conduct and oVer them numerous opportunities to listen carefully and to reXect
upon their actions both before and after the fact. Within these didactic interactions, not speaking does not necessarily mean a lack of creativity or critical
thinking, nor does listening necessarily imply passive submission or docile
obedience. At a very young age, these children already demonstrate a highly
reXective form of agency through attentive listening.

CONCLUSION: RETHINKING THE STUDY


OF NARRATIVE DEVELOPMENT

The importance attributed to listening in Confucian traditions and in everyday narrative practices in Taiwanese families leads us to take a fresh look at the
study of narrative. If developmentalists brought to their research projects the
kinds of perspectives and inclinations that pervade the narrative practices of
Yoyo and Angus families, what kinds of research questions would they ask?
Or to frame the question slightly diVerently, what would the study of narrative development look like if it assumed a didactic model of narrative that
privileged the listener role?
We believe that researchers with these meta-theoretical biases would be
keenly interested in childrens development as listeners. They would regard
listening as a moral/social/cognitive skillan obligation to parents, a means
of learning how to be a right and proper person, and a vital part of the
childs emerging narrative competence. Researchers with these assumptions
would chart childrens narrative development in terms of their growing ability to listen. They might ask the following kinds of questions: Does the
child adopt the appropriate listening demeanor? Is the child able to grasp
complex sequences of events, detect subtle diVerences across stories, register
nuances conveyed by the narrators voice and face, and time his or her
responses so that they will be heard? Does the child request certain stories or
position himself or herself to be able to listen? What kinds of listening
opportunities does the family routinely provide? How do these opportunities change with age? Are stories told to, about, and around the child? Are
children encouraged to listen? If so, how are they encouraged? If they fail to
listen, what are the consequences? Are children allowed to listen, as by-

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

317

standers, overhearers, or eavesdroppers, to adult stories? The list could go on


and on.
Privileging the Narrator Role

Although there has been a tremendous amount of interest in childrens narrative development in the last two decades, very few studies address these
kinds of questions. Instead, whether the focus is on the development of narrative itself or on narrative as a window into autobiographical memory, selfconstruction, or socioemotional processes, most studies implicitly privilege
the childs role as narrator (Applebee, 1978; Bamberg, 1997; Berman &
Slobin, 1994; Engel, 1995; Fivush, 1993; McCabe & Peterson, 1990; Miller,
1994; Miller et al., 1992). Conducted largely by American researchers, studying American children, these studies rely primarily on measures of narrative
production or observations of children telling or co-telling stories. This bias
toward the narrator role and away from the listener role may reXect hidden
assumptions, rooted in American culture, that the narrator role is the only
active role and thus the only role that really matters developmentally.
One major strand of research addresses the development of narrative per
se, especially narrative structure (e.g., Applebee, 1978; Botvin & SuttonSmith, 1977; McCabe & Peterson, 1990; Peterson & McCabe, 1983). These
studies rely upon production tasks and usually involve story elicitations. The
elicitation procedures range from open-ended to controlled. The researcher
asks the child to tell a story (Applebee, 1978), to make up a story about something familiar (Bennett-Kastor, 1986), to tell a story of a past personal experience (Labov, 1972), or to tell a story based on wordless picture books (Bamberg, 1997; Berman & Slobin, 1994; Hickman & Hendriks, 1999; Wigglesworth, 1997).
Other strands of research investigate childrens narratives in order to understand their social, emotional, or cognitive development (e.g. Fivush, 1993;
Pitcher & Prelinger, 1963; Stern, 1985, 1989; Sutton-Smith, 1981). Again,
most of these studies emphasize childrens narrative productions. However,
some of these studies treat children as co-narrators rather than solo narrators.
For example, the childs mother (or a researcher) is asked to tell a story with
the child about a particular event, such as going to the circus or what happened at school that day (Fenny, Eder, & Rescorla, 1996; Fivush, Hamond,
Harsch, Singer, & Wolf, 1991; Fivush, Haden, & Adam, 1995; Haden &
Fivush, 1996; Reese & Fivush, 1993). In other studies, the researcher provides a short prompting narrative (e.g., being stung by a bee) to induce
children to tell similar stories (Ely & McCabe, 1993; Peterson & McCabe,

318

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

1983; Peterson, Jesso, & McCabe, 1999; Wang & Leichtman, 2000); or
asks the child to complete story stems (e.g., using MacArthur Story-Stem Battery, Oppenheim, Emde, & Warren, 1997; Oppenheim, Nir, Warren, &
Emde, 1997) or Wnish the stories with beginnings provided (e.g., Domino &
Hannah, 1987; Oppenheim, Emde, & Warren, 1997; Wang & Leichtman, 2000).
Still another strand of work focuses on the role that storytelling plays in
socializing children into the meaning systems of their culture (e.g., Bruner,
1990; Engel, 1995; Heath, 1983; Miller et al., 1990, 1992). As Bruner
(1990) points out, narratives are a means by which children navigate meanings. When childrens narrative skills advance, this not only represents a
mental achievement, but an achievement of social practice that lends stability
to the childs social life (p. 8). These researchers tend to adopt a more naturalistic approach, observing childrens everyday narrative practices in classrooms (Michaels, 1981; Stone, 1992) and homes (e.g., Blum-Kulka & Snow,
1992; Burger & Miller, 1999; Mintz, 1995; Preece, 1987; Wiley, Rose,
Burger, & Miller, 1998). Although the focus on everyday narrative activity
allows researchers to cast a larger net, here too studies are more likely to focus
on children co-narrating stories than on children listening to stories.
A Range of Participant Roles

However, informed by GoVmans (1974) notion of participant framework


and by perspectives from the interdisciplinary Weld of language socialization
(Ochs & SchieVelin, 1984), research on narrative socialization does recognize
that a variety of participant roles are possible, beyond the narrator role (e.g.,
Miller & Moore, 1989; Miller, et al., 1990; Ochs & Capps, 1996, 2001;
Ochs & Taylor, 1995; Sperry & Sperry, 1996; Taylor, 1995). For example,
stories may be told directly to the child as the designated recipient or about
the child, as a bystander, overhearer, or ratiWed recipient of the story.
In addition, some studies within this tradition have described communities in which listening to stories is an important part of everyday family life,
with the listening role carved out somewhat diVerently in each instance. For
example, Heath (1983) described a working-class African American community in which young narrators had to listen closely and act quickly in order to
gain the Xoor. Miller (1994) described White working-class families in which
young children were constantly exposed to adult stories of personal experience. The stories were told around young children, who were free to tune in
or not, as they wished. Watson-Gegeo (1992) described a practice among the
Kwaraae of the Solomon Islands in which young children were included in

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

319

evening gatherings in which everyone listened quietly as stories were told and
conXicts resolved. Thus, these studies suggest that it is not just the Taiwanese
who value listening and organize many opportunities for young children to
listen to stories in the family context. They point to the need to learn more
about how listening is culturally organized and elaborated in diVerent cultural cases.
In sum, in contrast to Taiwanese traditions and narrative practices that valorize the listener role, much developmental research has privileged the narrator role. As a result, little is known about how children develop as listeners.
By focusing on the Xow of interaction between family members and young
children and by following in the interpretive footsteps of the various participants (Briggs, 1998), it is possible to study listening from the perspective of
both socialization and acquisition. The analyses presented in this chapter suggest that young childrens achievements as listeners are best appreciated via
prolonged observation and painstaking inspection across the boundary of
each narration, across genres, and even across observational sessions. For
instance, in Example 2, if the researcher had left Angus home earlier, she
would have missed Angus challenge to her aunt and would have concluded
that Angu had timidly listened without responding. Similarly, in Example 1,
Yoyos moral agency could be understood only within the context of repeated
narrations of the same transgression with modiWed details, and in contrast to
how competent his older brother was at reciting the rules and correcting
Yoyos misdeeds.
We are not suggesting that researchers should ignore or downplay the narrator role; our point is that the study of narrative development will beneWt
from a more balanced approach that encompasses the whole range of ways in
which children and their families participate in narrative. Conversational narration is an interactive process accomplished jointly by participants who
occupy a whole range of roles, including narrator, co-narrator, listener, bystander, and overhearer. Therefore, it is essential to treat all narrative practices
as the collaborative and co-constructed work of these several participants and
to chart childrens development in terms of the full range of roles available to
them. A more balanced perspective should also be cultivated in educational
arenas. In the United States, where speaking is assumed to be conducive to
active learning, Chinese learners are often seen by American teachers as passive or unwilling to participate (Li, 2003). Our work lends weight to Pangs
(1996) advice that American teachers need to respect Asian students attentive silence (pp. 188189). They often remain silent because they perceive
silence as respectful to the teacher and fellow students or because they are
engrossed in active listening and observing.

320

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

REFERENCES
Applebee, A. N. (1978). The childs concept of story. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Bamberg, M. (1997). Narrative development: Six approaches. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates.
Bennett-Kastor, T. (1986). Cohesion and predication in child narrative. Journal of Child Language, 10, 135149.
Berman, R., & Slobin, D. (1994). Relating events in narrative: A crosslinguistic developmental
study. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Blum-Kulka, S., & Snow, C. (1992). Developing autonomy for teller, tales, and telling in family narrative event. Journal of Narrative & Life History, 2, 187217.
Botvin, G. J., & Sutton-Smith, B. (1977). The development of structural complexity in childrens fantasy narratives. Developmental Psychology, 13, 377388.
Briggs, J. (1998). Inuit morality play: The emotional education of a three-year-old. New Haven,
CT: Yale University Press.
Bruner, J. S. (1983). Childs talk. New York: W. W. Norton.
Bruner, J. S. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Burger, L., & Miller, P. (1999). Early talk about the past revisited: AVect in working class and
middle class childrens co-narrations. Journal of Child Language, 26, 133162.
Chang, H. C. (1997). Language and words: Communication in the Analects of Confucius.
Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 16, 107131.
Chang, H. C. (2001). Learning speaking skills from our ancient philosophers: Transformation
of Taiwanese culture as observed from popular books. Journal of Asian PaciWc Communication, 11, 109133.
Clancy, P. M. (1986). The acquisition of communicative style in Japanese. In B. B. SchieVelin
& E. Ochs (Eds.), Language socialization across cultures (pp. 213250). London: Cambridge University Press.
Cook, H. M. (1999). Language socialization in Japanese elementary schools: Attentive listening and reaction turns. Journal of Pragmatics, 31, 14431465.
Domino, G., & Hannah, M. T. (1987). A comparative analysis of social values of Chinese and
American children. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 18, 5577.
Ely, R., & McCabe, A. (1993). Remembered voices. Journal of Child Language, 20, 671696.
Engel, S. (1995). The stories children tell: Making sense of the narratives of childhood. New York:
W. H. Freeman.
Fenny, N. C., Eder, R. A., & Rescorla, L. (1996). Conversations with preschoolers: The feeling state content of childrens narratives. Early Education & Development, 7, 7994.
Fivush, R. (1993). Emotional content of parent-child conversations about the past. In C. A.
Nelson (Ed.), Memory and aVect in development: Minnesota symposia on child psychology
(Vol. 26, pp. 3977). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Fivush, R., Haden, C., & Adam, S. (1995). Structure and coherence of preschoolers personal
narratives over time: Implications for childhood Amnesia. Journal of Experimental Child
Psychology, 60, 3256.
Fivush, R., Hamond, N. R., Harsch, N., Singer, N., & Wolf, A. (1991). Content and consistency in young childrens autobiographical recall. Discourse Processes, 14, 373388.
Fung, H. (1999). Becoming a moral child: The socialization of shame among young Chinese
children. Ethos, 27, 180209.

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

321

Fung, H., & Chen, E. C. H. (2001). Across time and beyond skin: Self and transgression in
the everyday socialization of shame among Taiwanese preschool children. Social Development, 10, 419436.
Gao, G. (1998). Dont take my word for it Understanding Chinese speaking practices.
International Journal of Intercultural Relations, 22, 163186.
Gao, G., Ting-Toomey, S., & Gudykunst, W. B. (1996). Chinese communication processes.
In M. H. Bond (Ed.), The handbook of Chinese psychology (pp. 280293). Hong Kong:
Oxford University Press.
GoVman, E. (1974). Frame analysis. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Haden, C. A., & Fivush, R. (1996). Contextual variation in maternal conversational styles.
Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 42, 200227.
He, A. W. (2001). The language of ambiguity: Practices in Chinese heritage language classes.
Discourse Studies, 3, 7596.
Heath, S. B. (1983). Ways with words: Language, life, and work in communities and classrooms.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Hickmann, M., & Hendriks, H. (1999). Cohesion and anaphora in childrens narratives: A
comparison of English, French, German, and Mandarin Chinese. Journal of Child Language, 26, 419452.
Labov, W. (1972). Language in the inner city. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Lau, D. C. (Trans.). (1992). Confucius: The Analects. Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press.
Li, J. (2001). Chinese conceptualization of learning. Ethos, 29, 111137.
Li, J. (2003). The core of Confucian learning. American Psychologist, 58, 146147.
McCabe, A., & Peterson, C. (Eds.) (1990). Developing narrative structure. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Michaels, S. (1981). Sharing time: Childrens narrative styles and diVerential access to literacy. Language in Society, 10, 423442.
Miller, P. J. (1994). Narrative practices: Their role in socialization and self-construction. In
U. Neisser & R. Fivush (Eds.), The remembering self: Construction and accuracy in the selfnarrative (pp. 158179). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Miller, P. J. (1996). Instantiating culture through discourse practices: Some personal reXections
on socialization and how to study it. In R. Jessor, A. Colby, & R. A. Shweder (Eds.),
Ethnography and human development: Context and meaning in social inquiry (pp. 183204).
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Miller, P. J., Fung, H., & Mintz, J. (1996). Self-construction through narratives practices: A
Chinese and American comparison of early socialization. Ethos, 24, 144.
Miller, P. J., Mintz, J., Hoogstra, L., Fung, H., & Potts, R. (1992). The narrated self: Young
childrens construction if self in relation to others in conversational stories of personal experience. Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 38, 4567.
Miller, P. J., & Moore, B. B. (1989). Narrative conjunctions of caregiver and child: A comparative perspective on socialization through stories. Ethos, 17, 428449.
Miller, P. J., Potts, R., Fung, H., Hoogstra, L., & Mintz, J. (1990). Narrative practices and the
social construction of self in childhood. American Ethnologist, 17, 292311.
Miller, P. J., Sandel, T. L., Liang, C. H., & Fung, H. (2001). Narrating transgressions in Longwood: The discourses, meanings, and paradoxes of an American socializing practice. Ethos,
29, 159186.
Miller, P. J., Wiley, A. R., Fung, H., & Liang, C. H. (1997). Personal storytelling as a medium
of socialization in Chinese and American families. Child Development, 68, 557568.

322

FUNG, MILLER, LIN

Mintz, J. (1995). Self in relation to other: Preschoolers verbal social comparisons within narrative discourse. New Direction for Child Development, 69, 6173.
Mintz, J. (1999). Self-esteem as ideology and practice: A study of narrative discourse practices
among parents and preschool children in a middle-class, European-American community
(Doctoral dissertation, University of Chicago, 1999). Dissertation Abstracts International,
60, 856.
Ochs, E., & Capps, L. (1996). Narrating the self. Annual Review of Anthropology, 25, 1943.
Ochs, E., & Capps, L. (2001). Living narrative: Creating lives in everyday storytelling. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Ochs, E., & SchieVelin, B. (l984). Language acquisition and socialization: Three developmental stories and their implications. In R. Shweder & R. LeVine (Eds.), Culture theory (pp.
277320). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ochs, E., & Taylor, C. E. (1995). The father knows best dynamic in dinnertime narratives.
In K. Hall & M. Bucholtz (Eds.), Gender articulated: Language and the socially constructed
self (pp. 97120). New York: Routledge.
Oppenheim, D., Emde, R. N., & Warren, S. (1997). Childrens narrative representations of
mothers: Their development and associations with child and mother adaptation. Child
Development, 68, 127138.
Oppenheim, D., Nir, A., Warren, S., & Emde, R. N. (1997). Emotion regulation in motherchild narrative co-construction: Associations with childrens narratives and adaptation.
Developmental Psychology, 33, 284294.
Pang, V. O. (1996). Intentional silence and communication in a democratic society: The view
point of one Asian American. High School Journal, 79, 183190.
Peterson, C., & McCabe, A. (1983). Development psycholinguistics: Three ways of looking at a
childs narrative. New York: Plenum.
Peterson, C., Jesso, B., & McCabe, A. (1999). Encouraging narratives in preschoolers: An
intervention study. Journal of Child Language, 26, 4967.
Pitcher, E. G., & Prelinger, E. (1963). Children tell stories: An analysis of fantasy. New York:
International University Press.
Preece, A. (1987). The range of narrative forms conversationally produced by young children.
Journal of Child Language, 14, 353373.
Reese, E., & Fivush, R. (1993). Parental styles of talking about the past. Developmental Psychology, 29, 596606.
Scollon, R., & Scollon, S. W. (1995). Intercultural communication: A discourse approach.
Oxford, UK: Blackwell.
Soothill, W. E. (Trans.). (1968). The analects of Confucius. New York: Paragon.
Sperry, L. L., & Sperry, D. E. (1996). Early development of narrative skills. Cognitive Development, 11, 443465.
Stern, D. (1985). The interpersonal world of the infant. New York: Basic Books.
Stern, D. (1989). Crib monologues from a psychoanalytic perspective. In K. Nelson, (Ed.).
Narratives from the crib (pp. 309319). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Stone, P. S. (1992). You know what? Conversational narratives of preschool children. Early
Childhood Research Quarterly, 7, 367382.
Sutton-Smith, B. (1981). The folkstories of children. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press.
Taylor, C. E. (1995). Child as apprentice-narrator: Socializing voice, face, identity, and self-

13.

L I S T E N I N G I S AC T I V E

323

esteem amid the narrative politics of family dinner (Doctoral Dissertation, University of
Southern California, 1995). Dissertation Abstracts International, 57, Z0667.
Wang, Q., & Leichtman, M. D. (2000). Same beginnings, diVerent stories: A comparison of
American and Chinese childrens narratives. Child Development, 71, 13291346.
Watson-Gegeo, K. (1992). Thick explanation in the ethnographic study of child socialization
and development: A longitudinal study of the problem of schooling for Kwaraae (Solomon
Islands) children. In W. W. Corsaro & P. J. Miller (Eds.), Interpretive approaches to childrens socialization. New Directions in Child Development, 58, 5166.
Wigglesworth, G. (1997). Childrens individual approaches to the organization of narrative.
Journal of Child Language, 24, 279309.
Wiley, A. R., Rose, A. J., Burger, L. K., & Miller, P. J. (1998). Constructing autonomous selves
through narrative practices: A comparative study of working-class and middle-class families. Child Development, 69, 833847.
Young, L. W. L. (1994). Crosstalk and culture in Sino-American communication. New York:
Cambridge University Press.
Yum, J. O. (1991). The impact of Confucianism on interpersonal relationships and communication patterns in East Asia. In L. A. Samovar & R. E. Porter (Eds.), Intercultural communication: A reader (pp. 6678). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.

PA R T V

Aging and Grandparenthood


in Narrative

14
Telling Stories
and Getting Acquainted:
How Age Matters
Odette Gould
Mount Allison University

Whether through sharing the minutiae of everyday life or making heart-felt


disclosures, whether conversing with a spouse, a child or a grandchild, most
family relationships could be described as the direct result of a life spans
worth of dyadic exchanges. Particularly in late adulthood, many (if not most)
conversations are carried out between only two people spouses, children,
grandchildren, care givers, friends, and acquaintances. Arguably, the wellbeing of family members across the generations is dependent upon how
informative, and how pleasant, intergenerational talk is.
It is well established that old age is accompanied by declines in certain
cognitive domainsbut a question that remains, perhaps the most crucial
one, is the eVects of these cognitive changes on conversations and, by extension, on relationships. Do the cognitive deWcits of normal aging aVect our
ability to participate fully in conversations with age peers or across generations? One interesting and theoretically useful (although admittedly incomplete) way of conceptualizing such conversations is by focusing on the information exchanged: what is said, how it is said, what is understood, and
how it is remembered. EVective and pleasant informational exchanges are an
integral part of close, long-lasting, and emotionally satisfying relationships
with families, both within and between generations.
In this chapter, I discuss a series of exploratory studies using a primarily
cognitive approach, speciWcally the study of the quantity and quality of information exchanged by older adults. This is not meant to be a thorough review
of research on older adults discourse. My much more modest goal is to discuss studies carried out by my colleagues and me over the last few years and
to use these as a means of highlighting the exciting possibilities and questions
327

328

GOULD

that are raised when cognitive aging is considered in a collaborative context.


With a few exceptions (e.g., Baltes & Staudinger, 1996; Strough & Margrett,
2002a), most cognitive aging research has been limited to measuring how
older adults working alone fail to meet performance standards set by younger
adults (Strough & Margrett, 2002b). However, there have been indications in
the literature for quite some time that many aspects of communication skills
do not decline in old age, at least not until very late in life (Ryan, Giles, Bartolucci, & Henwood, 1986). Thus, the studies I discuss herein focus on older
adults ability to communicate information to others.
First, I review a series of studies we have done to investigate how older
adults collaborate on remembering information. Whether telling an adult
child what the physician said, or sharing the latest family gossip, older couples, older siblings, and older friends often work together to recall as much
information as possible. Our research begins to explore how eVective this collaboration can be.
In the second part of this chapter, I discuss some work that explored how
older adults work with others to co-create personal disclosures. Traditionally,
older family members have often been seen as the keepers and sharers of family history, and the bearers of sage advice based on personal experiences. However, little is known of the manner (i.e., the conversational style) in which
these personal experiences are shared with others. Moreover, the content and
appeal of the experiences that older adults consider life changing (and presumably worthy of sharing with younger family members) is of interest.
Finally, I speculate on how certain social boundaries inXuence older adults
management of the task of exchanging information with others. How do
older adults manage the diYcult task of presenting and receiving information
from individuals, even their own children and grandchildren, with whom
they share neither an age cohort nor a shared social history?

REMEMBERING STORIES

Most researchers of cognitive aging Wnd that performance on episodic memory tasks declines as we reach late adulthood (Zacks, Hasher, & Li, 2000).
Episodic memory is the facet of memory that we use when we witness an
event or read a story and attempt to recall the information at a later date.
Although rarely presented in this context, these types of discourse memory
tasks are arguably a form of storytelling, since they involve the creation and
presentation of a coherent organization of facts (Dixon & Gould, 1996). One
particularly fertile perspective oVered by Craik and colleagues (e.g., Craik &

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

329

Jennings, 1992) has been that the performance levels attained by older adults
are determined to a large extent by the amount of environmental support
provided either when information is being learned or when it is being
retrieved from memory. In our work, my colleagues and I have explored the
possibility that collaboration may oVer a special form of retrieval support that
would allow older adults to maintain high levels of recall performance despite
age-related memory losses. Thus, one possibility is that in a collaborative
recall setting, compensatory mechanisms may come into play and older adults
may not be at a performance disadvantage. Of course, a second possibility
is that the collaborative context could be particularly detrimental to older
adults cognitive performance. Indeed, many aspects of collaborative recall
involve substantial demands to working memory, and working memory performance is consistently found to decrease in late adulthood (Zacks et al.,
2000). For example, the process of collaborating involves (a) monitoring partners verbal productions at the same time as one is planning ones own production, (b) a constant updating of what one planned to say based on what
the partner said, and (c) the ability to quickly switch ones attention between
ones own thoughts and the partners speech. Thus, one goal of our early
research on collaborative recall was simply to establish whether older adults
would be able to be eVective collaborators, despite the presumably heavy
working memory demands of this context.
In one study (Dixon & Gould, 1998) we simply compared recall performance of younger and older adults who recalled information as individuals,
groups of two, and groups of four. Twelve units of participants were tested at
each of the three group sizes and the two age levels. Results indicated that
recall performance increased across group size, but younger adults consistently recalled more information than older adults. Groups of four older
adults, although recalling more than both older dyads and older individuals,
only attained levels of recall similar to that of younger individuals. These early
results were important in our thinking about collaborative memory in many
ways. First, we managed to establish that older adults are eVective collaborators since they, like younger adults, performed better as groups than as individuals. Second, we established that the structure of stories recalled by groups
is similar to the structure of stories recalled by individuals: most main ideas
are recalled, and details of the story, as they decrease in importance to the gist
of the story, are less likely to be recalled. Finally, we established that even
when working as a group, older adults do not (always) recall as much information as younger groups.
The results just described focused exclusively on the amount of information (speciWcally the number of idea units) that was recalled. Of course, this

330

GOULD

is only a small part of the picture. My colleagues and I have also begun exploring collaboration by attempting to identify what else, other than restated (i.e.,
correctly recalled) ideas from the stimulus-story, was being produced by the
groups during recall. This type of analysis is of interest because it allows us to
begin addressing the process of collaboration (i.e., how it happens). One set
of analyses focused on categorizing elaborations, deWned as statements made
during the recall sessions that were neither errors nor correctly recalled statements from the stimuli (Gould, Trevithick, & Dixon, 1991). We identiWed
two main types of elaborations and labeled them denotative and annotative
elaborations. Denotative elaborations are inferences that are based on the
content of the stimulus story, and state information that was implied but not
stated directly in the story. For example, if the original story stated that someone had gone shopping, a participant could recall that the protagonist had
driven his car to the shopping mall. The participant is adding information
to the original story, but this information is implied. Annotative elaborations
are much less closely tied to the stimulus story and include statements where
the speaker is evaluating and commenting on the story, its events, and its
characters. For example, a participant might state that the stimulus story is
unrealistic, that the protagonist is foolish, or that he has had a similar experience in his own life.
We found no age diVerences for the number of denotative elaborations
produced, although their number tended to increase as the size of the group
increased. In contrast, older adults produced more annotative elaborations
than younger adults, and for older, but not younger adults, the number of
annotative elaborations increased with every increase in group size. Finally, it
was particularly intriguing that while the production of denotative elaborations correlated positively and signiWcantly with recall performance, the production of annotative elaborations was unrelated, for both age groups, with
recall. Thus, older adults, particularly when they work in groups, seem to be
making the recall task not only a purely cognitive one, but a social one as well.
By commenting on the stories and their protagonists, older adults are bringing in more of a subjective, or at least evaluative, component to the task than
younger adults are. One possibility is that adding this subjective aspect to the
task may be one way that older adults, particularly groups of older adults,
compensate for age-related memory loss. Indeed, it may be that, by adding a
subjective and evaluative component to the stimulus story, it becomes more
memorable than it would otherwise be. Of course, this hypothesized compensatory process, if it does occur, is secondary at best, since (a) younger adult
groups still remember more information than older groups, and (b) the production of annotative elaborations is not positively correlated with recall.

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

331

However, as stated in the original paper, compensatory processes could be


improving older adults performance from a hypothesized base rate, even if
performance is not ultimately brought up to the level of younger groups
(Gould et al., 1991).
A further question of great interest is whether or not the relationship
between the collaborators aVects the quality of the collaboration. SpeciWcally,
we, and others (e.g., Johannsson, Andersson, & Rnnberg, 2000; Sillars &
Wilmot, 1989) have speculated that older married couples may be particularly eVective collaborators for two main reasons. First, their years together
would mean that they share a large background of experiences, such that they
could easily and eVectively cue each others memories (Sillars & Wilmot,
1989). Second, through many years of practice at accomplishing tasks
together, they would have become experts at managing the process of collaboration (Dixon, 1999).
Our early results supported the view that familiarity with ones partner
improved collaboration performance. In the second study reported in Dixon
and Gould (1998), a small number of younger and older married couples
working together to recall stories were compared to a small sample of unacquainted (same-sex) dyads. Although the older unacquainted dyads recalled
signiWcantly less information than younger dyads, older married couples
recalled just as much information from their stimulus stories as did younger
couples. In a follow-up paper, we focused on the process (rather than the outcome) of such dyadic/couple collaborations (Gould, Kurzman, & Dixon,
1994). Basically, we looked at how familiar and unfamiliar dyads spent their
time when collaborating. To do this, we categorized each statement uttered
by a member of the dyad as falling into one of four categories: (a) individual
story-related statements, where one person is recalling information from the
stimulus, (b) collaborative story-related statements, where the two collaborators are querying each other about details from the stimuli, (c) task discussion, where the partners discuss strategies for performing the task, and
(d) sociability/support statements, where the partners are encouraging each
other, or making personal disclosures only tangentially related to the task at
hand. Clearly, the Wrst two categories can be described as task-related statements, and the latter two as process work.
One of our main hypotheses when we began this study was that older
adults would be particularly aware of the need for eVective collaboration, and
thus would spend more time on group process than did younger groups. This
prediction, at least in its simple form, was not supported. The overall proportion of group process statements was the same for all four types of dyads.
However, further analyses oVered interesting evidence that our hypothesis

332

GOULD

was not so much invalid as overly simplistic. Indeed, we found that for younger
adults there was no relationship between recall performance and group process, but for older adults, the correlation between recall performance and task
discussion was positive and signiWcant, while the correlation between recall
performance and sociability/support statements was negative and statistically
signiWcant. Furthermore, we found that one of the main distinctions between
the groups was the fact that older unacquainted dyads produced more sociability/support statements than other types of dyads, particularly at the end
of the recall conversations, and married couples (both young and old) increased their production of task discussion statements as the recall conversation progressed.
One interpretation of this pattern is that all types of dyads adopted a strategy where the Wrst part of the recall conversation consisted mostly of having
individuals recall what they could, and the end of the conversation consisted
much more of group process. Seemingly, older unfamiliar dyads were getting
acquainted as a prerequisite to strategizing, while the married couples could
go directly to planning how to accomplish the task. The overarching assumption here is that for older adults, the task of remembering information is more
likely to be considered challenging, and therefore functional interdependence is present. Functional interdependence is a term used by Steiner (1972)
to describe a situation where group members believe that they are unable to
accomplish a task without the help of other group members.
Recently, my students and I investigated the eVects of group familiarity on
performance levels in more depth (Gould, Osborn, Krein, & Mortenson,
2002). As already mentioned, the earlier study (Dixon & Gould, 1998) was
problematic, particularly because the unfamiliar dyads and the married couples were not tested using the same stimuli, but also because there may be
fundamental diVerences between the types of participants who come to a
study as part of a married couple and those who come as individuals. Thus,
in the Gould et al. (2002) study we proposed that the best way to carry out
this comparison was to do a within-subject comparison of dyad type. We
therefore tested two same-aged couples at the same time, so that each person
carried out a series of cognitive tasks with his or her spouse, but also with an
opposite-gender stranger. We asked our participants to carry out three main
cognitive measures: word recall, story recall, and a referential naming task.
The two memory tests in the Gould et al. (2002) study yielded similar
and surprisingresults. We asked our participants to predict their recall
before the task began. They predicted (and so did we) that higher levels of
performance would be obtained when participants worked with their spouses
than when they worked with strangers. However, familiarity with the partner

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

333

did not aVect performance, for neither the young nor the older dyads! Moreover, there was a signiWcant interaction between the age and the gender factors in both tasks: Older women remembered just as much information as the
younger adults, but older men recalled signiWcantly fewer words and fewer
story ideas. Unfortunately, the design we used did not permit us to distinguish between a cognitive and a social process explanation for these Wndings.
SpeciWcally, it may be that older men (at least those of this cohort) show lower
performance on episodic memory tests, or it may be that these older men
were less likely to interrupt their female partners to insert their own recalled
information. (Of course, older men may not have inserted their recall because
they were too polite to interrupt their female partner, or because their older
female partners resisted being interrupted, or both). The referential naming
task used in Gould et al. (2002) is one where one partner must describe
repeatedly a set of ambiguous images so that the partner can organize these
images into the correct order. We had felt that in this task, in particular,
familiarity with ones partner would be an advantage, since shared past experiences could be used to create referents. However, virtual strangers carried
out the task just as well as long-married couples. Of course, our Wndings need
to be interpreted in context: The tasks may have lacked ecological validity,
and it is possible that if familiar and relevant stimuli were used, then familiarity eVects would be obtained.
It is important to note that the research described here is only one aspect
of the exciting work being carried out on the more general topic of collaborative cognition, including much recent work on collaborative everyday
problem solving (e.g., Goodnow, Lawrence, Ryan, Karantzas, & King, 2002;
Margrett & Marsiske, 2002; Meegan & Berg, 2002; Strough, Cheng &
Swenson, 2002). Overall, the research on collaborative cognition is yielding
exciting and provocative Wndings. Despite the presumptive cognitive demands
of the collaborative setting itself, older adults seem to be very eVective collaborators when recalling information together. Even more exciting is the possibility that the collaborative setting is diVerentially beneWcial to older adults.
The next step in this research is to establish exactly how older adults beneWt
from working in groups. Are older adults better than younger adults at cuing
each other? Are older adults better at managing the collaborative process? Do
older adults collaborate as well with younger partners? Does familiarity with
the younger partner make a diVerence? These are the questions that we are
addressing in the projects that we are undertaking presently.
In conclusion, the results described earlier can be seen as being fundamentally optimistic in two ways. First, we have found evidence that at least some
older dyads can recall just as much information as younger dyads. Thus,

334

GOULD

friends and family members could potentially perform important functions


in providing cognitive support (e.g., aiding in the recall of health-care information) as well as in providing the more often recognized functions of social
and emotional support. Second, the fact that strangers perform as well as
married couples means that highly eVective collaboration partners are commonly available, and not limited to individuals with whom weve been familiar for many years. Thus, even if we lose long-term partners, new partnerships
such as may occur in late-life romantic pairings could be very helpful to
ensure our ability to remember the vital information of everyday life. This is
particularly important because the cohort of older adults tested here is probably the Wrst and the last for whom very long marriages are common (Mares
& Fitzpatrick, 1995). Indeed, Baby Boomers and subsequent generations are
not likely to marry as young, or to have marriages as stable, as did todays seniors. Few older adults in the future may be able to depend on romantic and
cognitive partnerships that last from the teens to the late 80s.

TELLING STORIES

In the research described previously, the focus was on how dyads and small
groups of peers worked together to remember a stimulus story that they had
read or heard moments before. An equally interesting topic is investigating
how older adults tell (rather than re-tell) a story, particularly their own
story. How adept are we at describing to friends and family members the
events from our own life in interesting ways? And what events from our own
life do we consider key to explaining who we have become?
There has been surprisingly little research focusing on the production of
discourse by healthy, normally aging older adults (Kemper & Kemtes, 2000).
Indeed, much of the recent work addresses the production of language by
older adults with dementia (e.g., Forbes, Venneri, & Shanks, 2002), the comprehension of language given processing rate deWcits (e.g., Tun, 1998; WingWeld, 1999), or the comprehension of intergenerational speech (e.g., Kemper,
Othick, Warren, Gubarchuk, & Gerhing, 1996). Of the discourse production work that has been carried out, a distinctly multidirectional perspective
is portrayed: some aspects of speech show age-related decline, some show
improvement, and many show stability.
Many researchers have found age-related loss in the quality of speech produced when older adults are asked to describe pictures or scenes. Older adults
are described as having less coherent speech (e.g., Ulatowska, Hayashi, Cannito, & Fleming, 1986), using syntactical forms that require less working

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

335

memory processing (e.g., Kynette & Kemper, 1986), producing more referential errors and lexical ambiguity (e.g., Pratt, Boyes, Robins, & Manchester,
1989), producing speech that is disrupted by word retrieval problems (e.g.,
Kemper, 1992), and being overly loquacious (Obler, 1980) and verbose
(Gold, Andres, Arbuckle, & Schwartzman, 1988). Moreover, when asked to
provide a summary of a story, older adults create summaries that are less succinct, in that they contain a mixture of central and noncentral details (Byrd,
1985). Such losses have also been found across diVerent linguistic groups
(Juncos-Rabadan, 1996).
In contrast, many researchers have identiWed age-related improvements in
speech production, or at the very least qualitative diVerences in how older
adults describe scenes and events. For example, in Kemper, Kynette, Rash,
OBrien, and Sprott (1989), undergraduate and adult judges rated older
adults productions to be clearer and more interesting than those of younger
speakers. Older adults productions were also found to contain syntactically
simple sentences, and the authors proposed that these simpler sentences
may have been produced not only because of working memory deWcits, but
also because of stylistic concerns for producing interesting stories. Similarly,
Kemper, Rash, Kynette, and Norman (1990) found that individuals in their
seventh and eighth decades produced stories that were more structurally
complex (i.e., containing multiple embedded episodes), even though individual sentences tended to be syntactically simple. Similar results were obtained by Kemper (1990) when she analyzed the diary entries of Kansas pioneers. The diary entries written when the diarists were in their 70s and 80s
were judged by expert teachers to be more interesting and better written.
Pratt and Robins (1991) also analyzed personal narratives produced in the
laboratory and found that older adults were more likely to produce stories
that followed the classic narrative form; again, these stories were judged as
superior by listeners.
Finally, some studies Wnd similarities in performance across age. Glosser
and Deser (1992), for example, found no age diVerences on lexical cohesiveness or on many microlinguistic measures of discourse, and Ulatowska, Chapman, Highley, and Prince (1998) found that many global levels of processing
were maintained when longitudinal analyses were carried out from the 80s to
the 90s. Boden and Bielby (1983) found that getting-acquainted conversations did not diVer structurally, although they did diVer in terms of content.
Finally, Obler et al. (1994) compared individuals in their 30s, 50s, 60s, and
70s and pointed out that there was a great deal of variability in performance
at all age groups, and that statistically signiWcant age diVerences were often
not present. They also suggested that Wndings indicating stability of language

336

GOULD

performance across adulthood may be underrepresented in the Weld because


of the diYculty of publishing nonsigniWcant Wndings. Finally, in Labov and
Auger (1993), the same elderly individuals spontaneously produced the same
narratives during conversations with the same experimenter, 17 years apart.
These narratives were described as having lost no syntactic complexity over
time, and the organization of the stories may have improved over time.
Although practice at telling speciWc narratives may be a concern in this
design, it does highlight the lack of longitudinal studies of older adults discourse abilities.
Most studies described so far incorporate the relatively unnatural situation
of asking someone to speak in response to a stimulus in a laboratory setting
(Bower, 1997). In everyday life, most discourse occurs as part of a dialogue,
or at the very least when speakers (optimally) take listeners into account.
While this approach is common in sociolinguistic research, very few researchers using a cognitive/developmental paradigm have looked at the older persons ability and willingness to accommodate to the conversational needs of
partners, especially age peers.
In our work, we have begun to investigate how older adults manage conversations with age peers when they are telling a story together (Gould &
Dixon, 1993). We asked younger and older married couples to describe
together a vacation or trip that they had taken together. We asked our participants to describe a trip for two reasons. First, the topic was felt to be ageneutral, since couples of all ages had taken at least a short trip together. Second, this topic could produce much latitude in the telling. Because there is no
way to describe a trip without summarizing, it provides us with a glimpse of
what details our participants believed worthy of telling. Thus, we were able to
analyze (a) the structure of the stories told, (b) the content of the stories told,
and (c) how the task of co-telling a story was shared across the two speakers.
The older couples tended to produce longer stories, longer grammatical
clauses, and more elaborated idea units (Gould & Dixon, 1993). Their stories were more likely to order events chronologically using relative terms (e.g.,
the next day), while younger adults were more likely to provide absolute chronological statements (e.g., on June 5th). In terms of their content, older couples produced stories that were rated as more subjective overall, and where
less emphasis was put on discussing the itinerary and speciWc events of the
trip, and more time was spent on descriptions of places seen and people met.
Similar results were obtained by Kemper (1990) when she analyzed the diary
entries of Kansas pioneers. With increasing age, the content as well as the format of these diary entries diVered. As they aged, the diarists were more likely
to write about people who had aVected their lives than about daily activities.

14.

H OW A G E M AT T E R S

337

The third group of analyses in our study addressed how the two members
of the couple shared the task of telling the story (Gould & Dixon, 1993).
One variable of particular interest here was in looking at topics (i.e., sections
of the story) where all content words were spoken by only one member of the
couple. We found that older adults were more likely to produce sequences of
these monologues, but that in older couples it was more likely that both
spouses produced some monologues. In other words, for younger couples,
when monologues were present, they were produced by mostly one speaker,
whereas older spouses were more likely to share in the production of these
monologues. Thus, the pattern of results suggests that younger and older couples were sharing the task of telling the story in fundamentally diVerent ways.
Younger couples shared the task at what we called a micro-level: Monologues
were rare and most events (and often sentences) were spoken by both partners. In contrast, the older couples seemed to be sharing the task at a more
macro-level. More monologues were produced overall by older couples, and
some older couples even stated explicitly that they were taking turns at telling
diVerent parts of the story.
In the following excerpts, some of the age-related diVerences just listed are
highlighted. The Wrst excerpt is the very end of an older couples description
of a trip to Europe taken in the 1950s, when they were in their 20s. The partners are shown to take longer turns, and they are explicitly aware of the eVect
of their storytelling on the audience. (Many of the older couples also explicitly discussed how to make the story interesting to the listener.) The second
excerpt presents the last few moments of a younger couples description of a
vacation taken in Germany a few years before.
Excerpt 1

(Brackets indicate overlap in speech.)


Male (M):

Female (F):

M:
F:
M:

. . . and then we came home by ship. Seven days from Liverpool to Montreal and that was the last sign of luxury that
[weve seen].
[We traveled Wrst] class. They dont have classes any more on
ships. I wanted my own bathroom and they wouldnt guarantee it if you [traveled second]
[I think it was second] class or tourist
Tourist yeah so anyway we [had a beautiful] . . .
[We had a table] of four there was an elderly, to us an elderly
lady, and from Montreal and a young fellow who was a
cipher clerk in the Canadian Embassy in India I think it was,

338

GOULD

and he was on his way home on leave. We hardly saw him


because he had a girlfriend in the tourist section. {laugh} But
the four of us, one waiter had nothing to do but look after
us. I used to come down. Id be the only one there for breakfast. He would shove me into my chair and . . .
F:
OK dear thats enough I think.
M:
OK alright, I wont go anymore, I can get into {laughter} . . .
F:
We had some lovely, lovely trips in our life.
Experimenter (E): {laugh} It sounds like a wonderful trip.

Excerpt 2: Younger Couple


Male (M): . . . and we, we walked around Lahr one day shopping, remember
through, through the stores and stuV like that?
Female (F): It rained.
M:
Ya . . . yeah I think so.
F:
And what did we do, that was what we did on our last day, wasnt
it? We walked around Lahr.
M:
Yeah, walked around Lahr.
F:
And then we went hmm?
M:
We went to the EuroPark.
F:
We did, that wasnt very fun {laugh} no big fair, wasnt fun at all, it
was a kiddie fair.
M:
And then one night we went to see the Rhine? We couldnt really
see, it was too dark out (laughter). And then we went to (missing
word ).
F:
{laughter}
M:
mmmmm . . .
F:
Ya {laugh} . . . then you went to Cyprus and I went home.
M:
Yeah thats about it {laugh}.
F:
{laugh} Yeah, thats it.
E:
Ive never been to Germany, Id love to go sometime.

It is interesting to speculate what is the reason for the diVerent styles of


sharing the storytelling task adopted by the younger and older married couples (Gould & Dixon, 1993). One possibility is that older adults have adapted
to the working memory losses that make co-telling a story at a microlevel too
diYcult. (Memory diYculties could also explain the use of relative rather
than absolute chronological markers.) A second and not necessarily incompatible explanation is the possibility that older adults have learned that stories
are more interesting for the listener if each speaker produces certain parts of
the story. Finally, these results could also be due to simple cohort diVerences:
These older couples may have told stories together in this way during their

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

339

entire married life. Indeed, strong cohort diVerences are consistently found
when marriage relationships are studied (Mares & Fitzpatrick, 1995).
Most of the studies that have looked at how, or how well, older adults
accommodate to the needs of their conversational partners have looked at
intergenerational conversations. For example, Coupland and colleagues studied older womens production of painful self-disclosures (e.g., discussions of
death, illness and loneliness) during conversations with younger and middleaged women (Coupland, Coupland, Giles, & Weimann, 1988). Although
the presentation of these negative and painful disclosures is thought to have
face-saving and identity-maintenance functions for the older women (Coupland, Coupland, & Giles, 1991), they result in conversations that are uncomfortable and unpleasant for the younger partners. In contrast, Bower (1997)
found that older American-Italian men used complex discourse strategies to
avoid discussing emotionally painful topics. In our own work (Collins &
Gould, 1994), we found that in simple getting-acquainted conversations,
older women did not produce disclosures that were either more intimate or
more negative than their younger partners. They did, however, produce
slightly more self-disclosures about the past than did younger women, although the two age groups did not diVer on the production of self-disclosures
about their opinions, their present lives or their future plans. Boden and
Bielby (1983) also found that older women were more likely to discuss their
personal past during getting-acquainted conversations. Of course, it could
simply be that by virtue of being older, they have more past to discuss than
younger conversationalists. However, it may also be that, as suggested by
Boden and Bielby, older adults are Wnding common ground with their partners, and thereby establishing a positive conversational identity. At any rate,
it is important to note that at least with our healthy and relatively well-oV
sample of older women, getting-acquainted conversations were not dominated by older womens overly negative or intimate disclosures, as some
stereotypes of the elderly would suggest (Collins & Gould, 1994).
Surprisingly, relatively little research in psychology has focused on the style
and content of conversations that occur between older adults and their own
children and grandchildren. One aspect of intergenerational conversation that
is particularly fascinating is the question of what types of personal narratives
people of diVerent ages consider important in their own lives. Will family
members share a recognition of what is an important autobiographical event
and how these autobiographical memories should be recounted?
It is well established from the autobiographical memory literature that
when people of all ages are asked to remember events from their past, they are
likely to recall events that occurred when they were in late adolescence or

340

GOULD

early adulthood (Fitzgerald, 1996). We obtained similar results when we


(Gould, Webster, Goreham, & Ulven, 2002) asked individuals from across
the life span to describe a special memory that is an important turning point
in their life. Our sample contained over 20 respondents for each decade from
the teens to the 90s, with slightly fewer respondents (less than 15) in the 30s
and the 90s. As mentioned previously, the reminiscence bump was clearly
present: All of our age decades, from the teens to the 90s, described events
that they later rated as having happened between the ages of 15 and 35. Perhaps more surprising is the lack of a signiWcant age decade diVerence in how
often participants reported reminiscing about this event. Given a seven-point
scale ranging from 1 (less than once per year) to 7 (at least once per day), the
range of the age decade averages was narrowly distributed around 4 (once per
month) for all decades. Of course, this Wnding is consistent with results indicating that the total frequency of reminiscing is similar across the life span,
even if the functions of reminiscence are diVerent across age groups (e.g.,
Webster, 1997).
Although the content analysis of these memories is not yet complete, some
interesting patterns are appearing. We began by rating the valence of these
memories (using a similar system to that developed in Collins & Gould,
1994). Each memory was rated on a three-point scale for both positivity and
negativity. Overall, there was no age eVect when the age decade groups were
compared on positivity. In contrast, both a signiWcant linear and cubic age
trend were statistically signiWcant for negativity ratings. Basically, there was a
steady decrease in negativity from the teens to the 80s, with both the 40s and
the 90s standing out as having higher ratings on negativity than surrounding
decades. Preliminary attempts to identify themes yielded two groupings.
First, many of the memories can be categorized as involving a strong sense of
lossthe loss of a loved one through death, the loss of innocence through
close calls like automobile accidents, and in a few cases, a very powerful sense
of loss of trust because of abandonment or personal violation. A second main
theme that emerges strongly is one of having met a personal challenge, and
being proud of ones achievement. Analyses continue to try to identify
whether the themes and the ways these themes are expressed change across
the decades. Our main goal with this study was to explore whether the type
and content of individuals landmark memories relate to their self-reported
reminiscing behaviors. The range of topics was amazing, and the intimacy
intrinsic in such revelations is powerfully felt by the reader (Thorsheim &
Roberts, 1990). Of course, these data are very rich, and deserving of much
more in-depth analyses of the themes and storytelling styles used. Obviously,
more qualitative analysis techniques are necessary for a fuller understanding

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

341

of how identity and self are deWned through stories (e.g., Kenyon, 1996;
Pasupathi, 2001). Initial results oVer a fascinating glimpse into the process of
intergenerational family exchanges of personal experiences. Older adults do
not seem to tell stories that are more negative, or that deal with substantially
diVerent themes from those of their children and grandchildren. How such
personal narratives are received, interpreted, and appreciated by other family
members, however, is a topic that remains to be addressed in depth.
In conclusion, while some aspects of discourse production clearly reXect
age-related deWcits, some aspects show improvement, and many show stability. One valuable skill is the ability to take into account ones partner and
ones audience during conversation. This process is even more challenging
when conversations occur between individuals who belong (or are perceived
to belong) to diVerent social and age groups. The beliefs, attitudes, and
stereotypes that each member of the dyad holds toward the other may then
add another layer of complexity to the situation. While sociolinguists have
begun to broach these issues, cognitive psychologists have, for the most part,
ignored them.

EXCHANGING INFORMATION
ACROSS BOUNDARIES

Communication Accommodation Theory (CAT) is a sociolinguistic model


that studies how language, communication, and social psychology intersect
during interindividual interactions (Giles, Coupland, & Coupland, 1991).
The dimension of CAT that has received the most attention in the aging
literature is attuning, which has been used as a conceptual model to study
intergenerational interactions. SpeciWcally, younger adults have often been
observed to overaccommodate to older adults, such as when they underestimate the older persons sensory and cognitive abilities. Older adults have also
been described as underaccommodative to younger adults, such as when they
are seen as pursuing topics of conversation that are not of interest to the
younger partner (e.g., Williams & Nussbaum, 2001). Both forms of counterattuning are hypothesized to be due to the salience of age. Namely, both age
groups are treating the partner as a member of an age group (with all attending ageist stereotypes) rather than as an individual.
When a speaker accommodates his or her speech to the needs of the recipient, this speech must meet the needs of the recipient along many dimensions, including the discourse needs (choice of topics, turn taking), interpretability (clarity and complexity of the speech), and interpersonal control

342

GOULD

needs (permitting a positive face in the recipient). An optimal situation is one


where the two conversation partners work together to establish each others
level of knowledge, ability, and conversational needs. This process must occur
in real time, be a co-creation of each member of the conversation, and be in
constant Xux as the conversation ranges across diVerent topics. Obviously,
this is an enormously complex process.
Most of the research carried out to investigate younger adults satisfaction
with intergenerational conversations has focused on their discourse needs:
They report feeling that the topics discussed in conversations with older
adults are not enjoyable (Williams & Nussbaum, 2001). Interestingly, there
are suggestions that younger adults themselves may limit the topics addressed
in intergenerational conversations (Williams & Giles, 1996). In contrast,
younger adults accommodation (or lack thereof ) when communicating with
others has often been investigated. Most of the research carried out to investigate older adults satisfaction with intergenerational conversations has
focused on their interpretability needs: They report that younger adults
speech is oversimpliWed and patronizing (Ryan, Hummert, & Boich, 1995).
The term elderspeak is often used to describe this speaking style.
In most of the work investigating elderspeak, the main measure of interest
has been the older persons subjective reaction to the younger persons elderspeak. In our work, we (Gould & Dixon, 1997) explored whether older adults
beneWt from elderspeak in a cognitive sense. SpeciWcally, we investigated
whether elderspeak has the intended purpose of increasing the older persons
comprehension and memory for the information presented. Our participants
watched a video of an actor presenting medication instructions in either a
neutral speaking style or in elderspeak. Our results were unexpected: Some
individuals did remember more information when a message was presented
using elderspeak, but these same individuals rated the speaker and the speech
negatively. What was particularly surprising was that the older individuals
who beneWtted from the oversimpliWed speech tended to be the ones with
higher, rather than lower, working memory ability. We replicated and extended these Wndings in a subsequent study (Gould, Saum, & Belter, 2002).
Again, we found that working memory ability was not correlated to recall
when neutral speech was used. However, when elderspeak was used, positive
and statistically signiWcant correlations were present between working memory ability and recall performance for both younger and older adults.
We proposed a cognitive explanation for these Wndings. SpeciWcally, superior working memory abilities may be necessary to take advantage of certain
characteristics of elderspeak (e.g., reiteration of concepts). Ironically, while
many individuals in caring professions naturally adopt this speaking style to

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

343

help their most frail and cognitively deWcient patients, these seem to be the
individuals least likely to beneWt from this speaking style. Moreover, even
the individuals who do remember more information when this speaking style
is used are going to react negatively to the speaker, and thereby may be less
willing to follow that speakers recommendations. Kemper and Harden
(1999) have established that in experimental settings, it is possible to train
speakers to use an optimal speaking style that retains the beneWcial, but not
the patronizing, dimensions of elderspeak. However, since elderspeak, like
motherese with young children, is adopted without forethought or planning by most users, it is not clear whether widespread use of such an optimal
speaking style is likely.
In the second elderspeak study (Gould, Saum, & Belter, 2002), we were
also able to better establish the complexity of the aVective reactions to the
neutral and oversimpliWed speech. The latter was rated both more positively
and more negatively by the younger and older listeners. Of particular interest
was the Wnding, in both of the elderspeak studies, that there was a strong relationship between emotional reaction and recall performance for the older,
but not the younger participants. It may very well be, as some theoretical
models (e.g., Carstensen, 1992) have proposed, that subjectivity increases in
salience in old age.
Very few studies have looked at older adults ability to adapt their speech
across multiple conversational settings. Some authors have suggested that old
age is accompanied by a lack of Xexibility in language processing. Indeed,
when older adults were asked to give directions using a map or diagram, they
did not adapt their speech (e.g., prosody and grammatical complexity) to the
age and comprehension needs of the recipient (Kemper, Vandeputte, Rice,
Cheung, & Gubarchuk, 1995; Kemper et al., 1996).
In contrast, older adults caring for a spouse with dementia have been found
to adapt their speech to help their spouse with cognitive tasks (Cavanaugh et
al., 1989; Cavanaugh, Kinney, Dunn, McGuire, & Nocera, 1994) and to
repair communication breakdowns that occur when conversing with their
spouse (e.g., Orange, Miller, Johnson, & Van Gennep, 1998). Although these
care givers have had many months or years to learn to compensate for their
spouses communicative deWcits, older adults have also been shown to adapt
to unfamiliar conversational partners. For example, Coupland, Coupland,
and Grainger (1991) present a case study of one older womans successive
conversations with two diVerent partners. The authors highlight how the
woman works with each partner to co-create a completely diVerent persona.
With the younger adult partner, she subscribes to the negative stereotypes of
old age, and this portrayal is endorsed by the younger partner. When talking

344

GOULD

to an age peer, she portrays herself as an active and social person who copes
well with the constraints in her life. What is most striking about this case
study is the way it highlights this older womans communicative Xexibility.
In our own work, we (Gould & Shaleen, 1999) looked at older womens
ability to adapt their speech by pairing them sequentially with two younger
and unfamiliar partners that diVered on cognitive ability. Each older woman
participated in two interactions: one with a young university student, and
the other with a person with mild mental retardation. The older woman collaborated on the same set of cognitive tasks with each partner: (a) a 3-minute
getting-acquainted session, (b) menu planning, (c) collaborative block design,
and (d) Wnding 20 things in common. Our results indicated that older
women were very adept at adapting their speaking style to meet the needs of
their partners, particularly the passiveness that characterizes the speech of
individuals with mental retardation (Kuder & Bryen, 1991). Older women
used diVerent strategies across the diVerent tasks to ensure the participation
of their less talkative partners. They used signiWcantly more questions with
MR partners than with student partners in the menu and commonalities
task, and signiWcantly more direct commands with MR partners during the
more diYcult collaborative block design.
In the Gould and Shaleen (1999) study, it was particularly remarkable that
although older participants were told nothing about their partners before the
getting-acquainted task began, adaptive communicative styles began to appear very quickly (i.e., during the Wrst 3 minutes of the testing session). For
example, when older women asked a getting-acquainted question to a student
partner, the partner tended to answer the question, and then ask one of her
own. Thus, both interactants got the opportunity to disclose personal information. However, MR partners tended to answer questions, but not ask any.
The older women quickly adopted an approach where they would ask a question, listen to the answer, and then spontaneously disclose information in
response to the question that should have been asked but wasnt. For example, many of our older participants asked their MR partner where shed grown
up, and after a few seconds, would break the silence to make a comment, such
as, Well, I grew up here and have lived here all my life. It should be noted
that these Wndings are not necessarily in disagreement with those of Kemper
et al. (1995) and Kemper et al. (1996). Indeed, while the Kemper studies
focused on older adults ability to accommodate to the partners comprehension abilities, we focused on their ability to accommodate to the partners
conversational (i.e., turn taking) abilities. In my view, weve established that
at least on some very important aspects of conversation, older women were
found to adapt very clearly to the needs of their partners.

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

345

A next step is to investigate whether older women and men are willing and
able to accommodate to conversational partners in a variety of social contexts
and cognitively demanding situations. If we can gain a better understanding
of how Xexible older adults are as conversationalists, we can begin to understand the delights and the frustrations of intergenerational conversations.
Why do some grandchildren cherish conversations with grandparents, while
others Wnd them frustrating and boring? Are older adults unable to handle
the cognitive load of speaking and at the same time monitoring recipients
reactionsespecially when the recipient belongs to a diVerent age or social
cohort? Or do many grandparents consciously choose to transgress their
grandchildrens discourse and interpersonal expectations?

DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS

The main theme underlying most of the research discussed in this chapter is
that cognitive factors play an important role in deWning how intra- and intergenerational communication occurs. The stories we tell to describe our family to others and to describe ourselves to our own family are a fascinating
mixture of memory and imagination, and of logic and emotion. For too long,
cognitive developmentalists have looked at memory independently of why
information is being recalled, and at language independently of who is being
addressed. By the same token, social developmentalists have too often focused
on relationships without considering the cognitive abilities of the people in
these relationships.
A second theme in this chapter is that understanding communicative abilities of older adults is going to require both a multidirectional and a multidimensional perspective. In other words, simple decremental (or for that matter incremental) models are not suYcient. A much more complex and potentially useful perspective involves exploring the delicate equilibrium between
abilities that improve with age, abilities that decline, abilities that are compensated for, and abilities that are abandoned (either willingly or otherwise).
In the present chapter, I have attempted to provide examples of ways that
my colleagues and I have explored these ideas. One example is the interaction
between the complex set of cognitive and social variables that are required for
co-recalling, co-telling, and co-accommodating. The cognitive demands of
coordinating, in real time, ones own verbal productions and those of someone else are substantial. Yet, despite well-established working memory losses,
older adults manage, and sometimes excel at, collaboration and storytelling. A second example is the possibility that old age is accompanied by an

346

GOULD

increased salience of aVect in cognitive functioning and in the processing of


language. It may be that at least some of the time, older adults have diVerent
communicative goals that emphasize personal narrative and reminiscence.
Many cognitive aging researchers have noted that older adults sometimes
personalize laboratory settings. Even when we ask them to solve simple
problems and answer trivia questions (e.g., Camp, 1989), or remember information from stories (e.g., Gould et al., 1991), they tend to link the stimuli to
events in their own lives, to comment on them, and overall to transform the
testing session into an interesting and pleasant social interaction. In many situations, this approach may be beneWcial, and even optimal it may be what
makes older adults better storytellers. However, its possible that in some settings, such as a physicians oYce, or a family reunion, that a narrativistic and
subjective style of presenting information may be less eVective. Indeed, it may
be that this style of presenting information is particularly incompatible with
the training, the speaking style, and the communicative needs of the physician (Smyth, Gould, & Slobin, 2000), or the topical and stylistic expectations
of the adult child and grandchild. The physician may miss important diagnostic details because they are buried so deeply in the narratives, especially if
he or she is concentrating on how to best shut oV the Xow of the narrative in
order to get back to the task at hand. Similarly, the grandchild may wish for
a swift presentation of information, rather than a drawn-out (even if entertaining) narrative.
Many young people feel that older adults, including members of their own
extended family, do not adequately meet their conversational needs (e.g.,
Williams & Nussbaum, 2001). Stereotypes abound that older adults are boring, negative, repetitive, and judgmental. One possibility is that older adults
are unable or unwilling to meet the conversational content and style needs of
their younger interactants. Another possibility is that younger adults perceptions are false, and based on stereotypical and incorrect views of older adults.
Clearly, in-depth analyses of actual intergenerational same-family interactions are necessary for a better understanding of intergenerational conversations to emerge. For example, it would be useful to compare how the very
same, shared event (e.g., a conversation, a dinner, a family reunion) is experienced, remembered and described by diVerent family members. Moreover, it
would be particularly illuminating if accurate representations of the cognitive
abilities of the event participants were also obtained. Do older adults use long
conversational turns to reduce the working memory demands of quick backand-forth conversations? What determines the adoption of this compensatory strategy over others? Do adolescents use short conversational turns because they Wnd longer turns too syntactically demanding? When individuals

14.

347

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

of diVerent generations use diVerent conversational styles, when do they perceive the other as entertaining rather than ornery? In my view, we will need
both cognitive and social perspectives to answer such questions, and to
understand how family narratives are created and used.
In conclusion, the main goal of this chapter has been to highlight many
questions and possibilities that my colleagues and I Wnd interesting and productive. Empirical research on many of these topics is sorely lacking. Even
more important is work that integrates cognitive psychology with other theoretical and empirical traditions. If we want to understand the complex and
fascinating phenomena reviewed here, discourse between scholars is as necessary as discourse between and by aging study participants.

REFERENCES
Baltes, P. B., & Staudinger, U. M. (Eds.). (1996). Interactive minds: Life-span perspectives on the
social foundation of cognition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Boden, D., & Bielby, D. D. (1983). The past as resource. A conversational analysis of elderly
talk. Human Development, 26, 308319.
Bower, A. R. (1997). The role of narrative in the study of language and aging. Journal of Narrative and Life History, 7, 265274.
Byrd, M. (1985). Age diVerences in the ability to recall and summarize textual information.
Experimental Aging Research, 11, 375388.
Camp, C. (1989). World-knowledge systems. In L. W. Poon, D. C. Rubin, & B. A. Wilson
(Eds.), Everyday cognition in adulthood and late life (pp. 457482). Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Carstensen, L. L. (1992). Social and emotional patterns in adulthood: Support for socioemotional selectivity theory. Psychology and Aging, 7, 331338.
Cavanaugh, J. C., Dunn, N. J., Mowery, D., Feller, C., Niederehe, G., Fruge, E., & Volpendesta, D. (1989). Problem-solving strategies in dementia patient-caregiver dyads. The
Gerontologist, 29, 156158.
Cavanaugh, J. C., Kinney, J. M., Dunn, N. J., McGuire, L. C., & Nocera, R. (1994). Caregiver-patient dyads: Documenting the verbal instructions caregivers provide in joint cognitive tasks. Journal of Adult Development, 1, 2736.
Collins, C. L., & Gould, O. N. (1994). Getting to know you: How own age and others age
relate to self-disclosure. International Journal of Human Development and Aging, 39, 5566.
Coupland, N., Coupland, J., & Giles, H. (1991). Language, society and the elderly. Oxford,
UK: Blackwell.
Coupland, J., Coupland, N., Giles, H., & Weimann, J. M. (1988). My life in your hands: Processes of self-disclosure in intergenerational talk. In N. Coupland (Ed.), Styles of discourse
(pp. 201253). London: Croom Helm.
Coupland, J., Coupland, N., & Grainger, K. (1991). Intergenerational discourse: Contextual
versions of aging and elderliness. Aging and Society, 11, 189208.
Craik, F. I. M., & Jennings, J. M. (1992). Human memory. In F. I. M. Craik & T. A. Salthouse

348

GOULD

(Eds.), The handbook of aging and cognition (pp. 51110). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates.
Dixon, R. A. (1999). Exploring cognition in interactive situations: The aging of N+1 minds.
In T. M. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition and aging (pp. 267290). San
Diego, CA: Academic.
Dixon, R. A., & Gould, O. N. (1996). Adults telling and retelling stories collaboratively. In
P. B. Baltes & U. Staudinger (Eds.), Interactive minds: Life-span perspectives on the social
foundation of cognition (pp. 221241). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Dixon, R. A., & Gould, O. N. (1998). Younger and older adults collaborating on retelling
everyday stories. Applied Developmental Science, 2, 160171.
Fitzgerald, J. M. (1996). The distribution of self-narrative memories in younger and older
adults: Elaborating the self-narrative hypothesis. Aging, Neuropsychology and Cognition, 3,
229236.
Forbes, K. E., Venneri, A., & Shanks, M. F. (2002). Distinct patterns of spontaneous speech
deterioration: An early predictor of Alzheimers disease. Brain & Cognition, 48, 356361.
Giles, H., Coupland, N., & Coupland, J. (1991). Accommodation theory: Communication,
context, and consequence. In H. Giles, J. Coupland, & N. Coupland (Eds.), Contexts of
accommodation: Developments in applied sociolinguistics (pp. 168). Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Glosser, G., & Deser, T. (1992). A comparison of changes in macrolinguistic and microlinguistic aspects of discourse production in normal aging. Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, 47, P266272.
Gold, D., Andres, D., Arbuckle, T., & Schwartzman, A. (1988). Measurement and correlates
of verbosity in elderly people. Journals of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, 43, 2733.
Goodnow, J. J., Lawrence, J. A., Ryan, J., Karantzas, G., & King, K. (2002). Extending studies of collaborative cognition by way of caregiving situations. International Journal of
Behavioral Development, 26, 615.
Gould, O. N., & Dixon, R. A. (1993). How we spent our vacation: Collaborative storytelling
by young and old adults. Psychology and Aging, 8, 1017.
Gould, O. N., & Dixon, R. A. (1997). Recall of medication instructions by young and old
adult women: Is overaccommodative speech helpful? Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 16, 5069.
Gould, O. N., Kurzman, D., & Dixon, R. A. (1994). Communication during prose recall conversations by young and old dyads. Discourse Processes, 17, 149165.
Gould, O. N., Osborn, C., Krein, H., & Mortenson, M. (2002). Collaborative recall in married and unaquainted dyads. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 3644.
Gould, O. N., Saum, C., & Belter, J. (2002). Recall and subjective reactions to speaking styles:
Does age matter? Experimental Aging Research, 28, 199213.
Gould, O. N., & Shaleen, L. (1999). Accommodative speech by older women. Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 18, 395418.
Gould, O. N., Trevithick, L., & Dixon, R. A. (1991). Adult age diVerences in elaborations
produced during prose recall. Psychology and Aging, 6, 9399.
Gould, O. N., Webster, J., Goreham, K., & Ulven, J. (2002). Exploring the links between reminiscence and landmark memories. Manuscript in preparation.
Johansson, O., Andersson, J., & Rnnberg, J. (2000). Do elderly couples have a better
prospective memory than other elderly people when they collaborate? Applied Cognitive
Psychology, 14, 121133.

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

349

Juncos-Rabadan, O. (1996). Narrative speech in the elderly. EVects of age and education on
telling stories. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 19, 669685.
Kemper, S. (1990). Adult diaries: Changes made to written narrative across the life span. Discourse Processes, 13, 207223.
Kemper, S. (1992). Adults sentence fragments: Who, what, when, where, and why. Communication Research, 19, 444458.
Kemper, S., & Harden, T. (1999). Experimentally disentangling whats beneWcial about elderspeak from whats not. Psychology & Aging, 14, 656670.
Kemper, S., & Kemtes, K. (2000). Aging and message production and comprehension. In
D. Park & N. Schwarz (Eds.), Cognitive aging: A primer (pp. 197214). Philadelphia: Taylor and Francis.
Kemper, S., Kynette, D., Rash, S., OBrien, K., & Sprott, R. (1989). Life-span changes to
adults language: EVects of memory and genre. Applied Psycholinguistics, 10, 4966.
Kemper, S., Othick, M., Warren, J., Gubarchuk, J., & Gerhing, H. (1996). Facilitating older
adults performance on a referential communication task through speech accommodations.
Aging, Neuropsychology, and Cognition, 3, 3755.
Kemper, S., Rash, S., Kynette, D., & Norman, S. (1990). Telling stories: The structure of
adults narratives. European Journal of Cognitive Psychology, 2, 205228.
Kemper, S., Vandeputte, D., Rice, K., Cheung, H., & Gubarchuk, J. (1995). Speech adjustments to aging during a referential communication task. Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 14, 4059.
Kenyon, G. M. (1996). The meaning/value of personal storytelling. In J. E. Birren & G. M.
Kenyon (Eds.)., Aging and biography: Explorations in adult development (pp. 2138). New
York: Springer.
Kuder, S. J., & Bryen, D. N. (1991). Communicative performance of persons with mental
retardation in an institutional setting. Journal of Education and Training in Mental Retardation, 26, 325332.
Kynette, D., & Kemper, S. (1986). Aging and the loss of grammatical forms: A cross-sectional
study of language performance. Language & Communication, 6, 6572.
Labov, W., & Auger, J. (1993). The eVect of normal aging on discourse: A sociolinguistic
approach. In H. Brownell & Y. Joanette (Eds.), Discourse in neurologically impaired and normal aging adults (pp. 115133). San Diego, CA: Singular.
Mares, M., & Fitzpatrick, M. (1995). The aging couple. In J. F. Nussbaum & J. Coupland
(Eds.), Handbook of communication and aging research (pp. 185206). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Margrett, J. A., & Marsiske, M. (2002). Gender diVerences in older adults everyday cognitive
collaboration. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 4559.
Meegan, S. P., & Berg, C. A. (2002). Contexts, functions, forms, and processes of collaborative everyday problem solving in older adulthood. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 615.
Obler, L. K. (1980). Narrative discourse style in the elderly. In L. K. Obler & M. L. Albert
(Eds.), Language and communication in the elderly (pp. 7590). Lexington, MA: Heath.
Obler, L. K., Au, R., Kugler, J., Melvold, J., Tocco, M., & Albert, M. L. (1994). Intersubject
variability in adult normal discourse. In R. L. Bloom, L. K. Obler, S. D. Santi, & J. S.
Ehrlich (Eds.), Discourse analysis and applications. Studies in adult clinical populations (pp.
1527). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Orange, J. B., Miller, L., Johnson, A. M., Van Gennep, K. M. (1998). Resolution of commu-

350

GOULD

nication breakdown in dementia of the Alzheimers type: A longitudinal study. Journal of


Applied Communication Research, 26, 120138.
Pasupathi, M. (2001). The social construction of the personal past and its implications for
adult development. Psychological Bulletin, 127, 651672.
Pratt, M. W., Boyes, C., Robins, S., & Manchester, J. (1989). Telling tales: Aging, working
memory, and the narrative cohesion of story retellings. Developmental Psychology, 25, 628
635.
Pratt, M. W., & Robins, S. L. (1991). Thats the way it was: Age diVerences in the structure
and quality of adults personal narratives. Discourse Processes, 14, 7385.
Ryan, E. B., Giles, H., Bartolucci, G., & Henwood, K. (1986). Psycholinguistic and social psychological components of communication by and with the elderly. Language and Communication, 6, 124.
Ryan, E. B., Hummert, M. L., & Boich, L. H. (1995). Communication predicaments of
aging: Patronizing behavior toward older adults. Journal of Language & Social Psychology,
14, 144166.
Sillars, A. L., & Wilmot, W. W. (1989). Marital communication across the life-span. In J. F.
Nussbaum (Ed.), Life-span communication (pp. 225254). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Smyth, J., Gould, O., & Slobin, K. (2000). The role of narrative in medicine: A multitheoretical perspective. Advances in Mind-Body Medicine, 16, 186193.
Steiner, I. D. (1972). Group process and productivity. New York: Academic.
Strough, J., Cheng, S., & Swenson, L. M. (2002). Preferences for collaborative and individual
everyday problem solving in later adulthood. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 2635.
Strough, J., & Margrett, J. (Eds.). (2002a). Collaborative cognition in later adulthood [Special
issue]. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26(1).
Strough, J., & Margrett, J. (2002b). Overview of the special section on collaborative cognition
in later adulthood. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 25.
Thorsheim, H., & Roberts, B. (1990). Empowerment through storysharing: communication
and reciprocal social support among older persons. In H. Giles, N. Coupland, & J. M.
Weimann (Eds.), Communication, health and the elderly (pp. 115125). Manchester, UK:
Manchester University Press.
Tun, P. A. (1998). Fast noisy speech: Age diVerences in processing rapid speech with background noise. Psychology and Aging, 13, 424434.
Ulatowska, H. K., Chapman, S. B., Highley, A. P., & Prince, J. (1998). Discourse in healthy
old-elderly adults: A longitudinal study. Aphasiology, 12, 619633
Ulatowska, H. K., Hayashi, M. M., Cannito, M. P., & Fleming, S. G. (1986). Disruption of
reference in aging. Brain & Language, 28, 2441.
Webster, J. D. (1997). The reminiscence functions scale: A replication. International Journal of
Aging and Human Development, 44, 137148.
Williams, A., & Giles, H. (1996). Intergenerational conversations: Young adults retrospective
accounts. Human Communication Research, 23, 220250.
Williams, A., & Nussbaum, J. F. (2001). Intergenerational communication across the lifespan.
Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
WingWeld, A. (1999). Comprehending spoken questions: EVects of cognitive and sensory
change in adult aging. In N. Schwarz, D. C. Park, B. Knuper, & S. Sudman (Eds.), Cognition, aging, and self-reports (pp. 201228). Philadelphia: Taylor & Francis.

14.

H OW AG E M AT T E R S

351

Zacks, R. T., Hasher, L., & Li, K. Z. H. (2000). Human memory. In F. I. M. Craik & T. A.
Salthouse (Eds.), The handbook of aging and cognition, (2nd ed., pp. 293358). Mahwah,
NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

15
As Long as They Go Back Down the
Driveway at the End of the Day:
Stories of the Satisfactions
and Challenges of Grandparenthood
Joan E. Norris
Stephanie Kuiack
University of Guelph

Michael W. Pratt
Wilfrid Laurier University
When I became a grandmother, I said to myself that I wasnt going to be
one of these grandmothers thats always talking about her grandchildren,
but I found that I could only do that a certain length of time. Someone
will come along and ask about your grandchildren and Wrst thing you
know you are in the grandmother class and you are kind of glad to be
there. I used to think, well, its just a child like your own, but it is diVerent. You look at them and you think, well for one thing, you are not
responsible for them. You just enjoy them and you look at them and you
wonder how they are going to unfold and blossom, what their personality
will be and who. It is quite an extra dimension that I didnt know was
possible until I experienced it.
Mrs. Sparks, grandmother of four (Norris & Tari, 1985)

In recent decades, we have seen a dramatic change in the age structure of


families in the industrialized world. Thanks to increasing longevity and the
verticalization of the familymore generations but fewer members of each
generationthere are more grandparents than ever before and more kinds
of grandparents than ever before. Most adults in their 30s have living grandparents, and many also have great-grandparents, step-grandparents, or grand353

354

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

parents who act as surrogate parents (Giarrusso, Feng, Silverstein, & Bengtson, 2001). The sheer availability of older adults within a family, then, makes
it likely that children will have the opportunity to form a relationship with at
least one grandparent well into their adult years.
But what kind of relationship will this be? A challenge for contemporary
family scientists is to do justice to the remarkable diversity within and across
families, and to understand how this diversity aVects interactions and relationships. Nowhere is this challenge greater than if one considers the situation of grandparents. Not only do these adults diVer in the generational place
they may hold with the family, they also can vary widely in age, onset of
grandparenthood, and the experience of life events such as work, divorce, and
simultaneous care giving for multiple generations of older and younger family members. The situation of this 58-year-old grandfather of nine is not
unusual: Weve still got two sons at home, so you dont miss children, if you
know what I mean. Like other grandparents dont have any children at home
so they really think its a big deal to have kids around. Well at times Dora
and I just wish they would all go away and leave us alone! (Norris & Tari,
1985, p. 3).
In this chapter, we explore one method by which the variability in intergenerational interaction and relationship building may be examined: that is,
through storytelling. By storytelling, we mean the narratives that grandparents weave into their interactions with others. These narratives include stories
told to grandchildren about grandparents personal history, that of the family,
and of the world that they grew up in. They also include stories told about
grandchildren to others in their family and larger social networks. When such
narratives occur within an intergenerational context, they have at least four
separate functions: building a relationship, education about personal and historical events, value transmission, and the expression of generativity. We
examine research on these four functions and provide examples to demonstrate their role in building and maintaining relationships across the generations. Throughout the chapter, an intergenerational family systems approach
guides our analysis, reminding us of the multiple times, relationships, and
generations that inXuence the narrative of any family.

INTERGENERATIONAL FAMILY SYSTEMS

Despite acknowledging the variability inherent within and across grandparenting experiences, many researchers have been intent on identifying normative roles. As we have noted elsewhere, this approach has resulted in a

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

355

proliferation of typologies developed in an eVort to describe the experiences


of all grandparents (Norris & Tindale, 1994; Norris, Pratt, & Kuiack, 2003).
The 1960s version of this approach resulted in classiWcations like the one
proposed by Neugarten and Weinstein (1964). According to authors such as
these, the oldest generation of a family can be found sharing fun, a rocking
chair, or wisdom with their grandchildren. More recently, researchers have
acknowledged the diYculty in creating one typology to Wt all grandparents,
some even suggesting that the grandparent role is too ambiguous and lacking
in normative prescriptions to be considered a role at all (Fischer & Silverman,
1982). Nevertheless, current work is still focused on classifying older family
members, not by instrumental activities with correspondingly catchy names,
but this time by extent of involvement in the family. Some grandparents are
virtual strangers, rarely seeing their grandchildren for example, because of
a childs divorce (Gladstone, 1988); others may have custody of their grandchildren and are fully involved as surrogate parents for example, when the
middle generation has died or is incapacitated (Hayslip & Goldberg-Glen,
2000).
As Silverstein, Giarrusso, and Bengtson (1998) have pointed out, the
attempt to identify classes of grandparents obscures the interaction and negotiation among family members that lead to particular styles of grandparenting. This focus also directs our attention away from examining the give-andtake between grandparents and their grandchildren as they work to establish
relationships with one another. Consequently, we know relatively little about
the nature and meaning of interaction between the generations. Is there a
developmental purpose to that spirited argument over world aVairs between
a teen and her grandfather? Is there a systemic, family purpose, when other
members good-naturedly fan the Xames with their own views?
In order to answer these questions, it is important to consider both the
unique developmental trajectory of each individual as well as the interacting
inXuences of relationships among family members. Further, these developmental events and relationships must be considered in the larger context of
the familys history and hopes for the future. To deal with such complexity, we
have found it useful to conceptualize family roles such as grandparenthood,
and dyadic relations such as grandparent-grandchild, within a wider systems
framework. We developed our theory of intergenerational family systems
(Norris et al., 2003) to help understand the continuity and discontinuity of
key beliefs and behaviors within an adult family. In a three-generational family, individuals, separately and in subgroups, socialize one another to patterns
of belief and behavior. These ongoing eVorts at socialization are inXuenced by
memories and beliefs about past generations as well as by hopes for future

356

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

change or stability. Shadowy Wgures of the remembered past and anticipated


future families have a signiWcant but uneven inXuence on the thoughts, feelings, and actions of current members. Weaker reciprocal inXuences of extended kin who share, variably, some of the beliefs and behaviors of the target
family are also present. Finally, the dynamic nature of the system is reinforced
by considering the trajectory of the family through time. This temporal element focuses attention on the development of individual members, the impact
of this development on the intergenerational system, and on the evolving
nature of relationships within the system.
The individual elements of the Intergenerational Family Systems Model,
and its focus on values, beliefs, and behaviors, provide an ideal framework
within which to understand grandparents narrative. As we discuss in the next
sections, grandparents motivation to tell stories, as well as the content of
these stories, is strongly inXuenced by their experiences with their own parents and grandparents, their hopes for the future of the family, and their
desire to provide a legacy of values and traditions for younger generations.

FUNCTIONS OF STORYTELLING IN THE


GRANDPARENTAL RELATIONSHIP

I think people have a natural-born tendency to tell stories. Theres poetry


inside each and every one of us. The job of any good listener is to simply get
it out (Terkel, 2002).
Traditionally, older adults have been considered the story tellers in a family (Obler, 1989). Nussbaum and Bettini (1994) have pointed out that
when grandparents and grandchildren interact, they most often do so by
sharing a story. These authors argue further that such storytelling occurs
more frequently in the grandparent-grandchild relationship than it does in
other family relationships. While other researchers might take issue with this
conclusion, given the pervasiveness of family stories across the life span as
illustrated in the present volume, it does lead us to consider what might be
the special purpose of stories and storytelling in the context of grandparenting. Our analysis of the extant literature indicates that there are four primary functions to the telling of a story to grandchildren: relationship building, education about personal and historical events, values transmission,
and, through these, expression of generativity. All of these functions appear
linked to an overarching goal for grandparents: that of preserving and
enhancing family relationships while making sense of their own unique life
stories.

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

357

Building Intergenerational Relationships

I like to take Susan by the hand for a walk down to the pond and I tell her
stories and she listens to them. We have a little house out there in the woods
and I tell her that is where the tree bears lived and she has a big imagination
and she will ask me to take her out to see the bears. I take great pride in taking her for a walk up into the wood and showing her around (65-year-old
grandfather; Norris & Tari, 1985).
When a child asks for a bedtime story, she is probably not asking to be
educated or socialized! All of us enjoy sharing a good story, one with coherence, a little excitement or complexity, and a satisfactory conclusion. Our
research demonstrates that listeners of all ages recognize these qualities in the
narratives they hear and read (Pratt & Robins, 1991). Studs Terkel (2002),
that master weaver of other peoples stories, tells us to Find your Florence,
the person in your family who can really tell the story well and delights in
doing so. Not everyone enjoys this role, but according to many researchers, a
familys storyteller is likely to be an older member (Nussbaum & Bettini,
1994). Perhaps, then, the main reason grandparents tell stories to their grandchildren is just for the pleasure of it. This function has been overlooked in the
literature on grandparenting, and largely in the literature on narrative as well,
yet it is vital.
Part of the pleasure of sharing a good story is, of course, the interconnection it can make between people. As Ryan, Pearce, Anas, and Norriss analyses of grandparents writing in the next chapter reveal, telling a loved one a
story creates a vital connection between two people. It builds on and adds to
the shared experiences of the teller and listener. Telling a well-loved family
anecdote engages both teller and listener in a ritual that can connect current
and past generations (Norris et al., 2003). The grandfather quoted at the
beginning of this subsection has obviously created an imaginative narrative
for his granddaughter, but sharing the stories of others can also have its
rewards, as this 77-year-old great-grandmother, interviewed about the meaning of grandparenthood, observed: Ive got to Wnish reading The Old Man
and the Sea by Hemingway. It is so interesting. I promised Rob, my 16-yearold great-grandson, that Id read it and help him put an essay together on it.
. . . Will do my best to try and help him. I love to see all my grandchildren
(Norris & Tindale, 1994, p. 71).
Kennedy (1992) found that grandchildren of all ages sought out their
grandparents for comfort, support, and advice, and argued that they did so
even more than young people of several decades ago. If there is such an
increase, it may be due in part to changes in family structure that encourage

358

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

intergenerational requests for contact and assistance (Norris & Tindale, 1994).
Kennedy and Kennedy (1993), for example, found that there were closer and
more active relationships between grandparents and grandchildren in stepfamilies and single-parent families than between grandparents and grandchildren in intact Wrst families. Although there is as yet no research on this
subject, it is possible that in the face of recent diYcult and frightening world
events, children may be more likely to ask for the close connection and reassurance that a grandparents presence and perspective can provide. Personal
stories of challenge and survival are inspiring to those with worries about
their own future and that of their generation.
Learning About Family and Social History

Ryan and colleagues (Ryan, Elliot, & Anas, 2000; Ryan, Elliot, & Meredith,
1999; Ryan et al., this volume) report that grandparents tell many stories to
their grandchildren of their youth, the intergenerational history of their
grandchilds family, and their personal perspectives on major historical events
such as the Depression and World War II. Telling these stories appears to
strengthen intergenerational connections as well as to educate other generations about the past (e.g., Putney & Bengtson, 2001). Older adults have a
great deal of investment in the future of their families and usually view other
family members as closer and more similar to them than do those members
in return. Sharing personal histories may be one way to enhance these similarities. The work on storytelling among Holocaust survivors and their families, for example, indicates that grandparents intentionally try to reinforce
family cohesiveness and unityas well as a distrust of nonfamily members
through their reXections on that tragedy (Chaitin, 2002).
A positive relationship with grandparents encourages the incorporation of
such values and attitudes into the personal stories of younger family members, and facilitates their identity development (Hayslip, Shore, & Henderson, 2000; see also Pratt & Fiese, this volume). Outwardly, a teenaged boy,
concerned that he has the right brand of skateboard and properly spiked hair,
might not seem concerned about maintaining Grandmas Sunday dinner tradition. Nevertheless, even he is likely to retain some vestige of her belief in
family rituals (Kopera-Frye & Wiscott, 2000), more strongly if Grandma has
managed to Wnd a role for this dinner tradition in the overall family story that
she is trying to preserve. Manoogian (2002) found that these family stories
are an essential part of the legacy that grandmothers strive to provide for their
grandchildren. For the Armenian Americans in this study, where there was
virtually nothing tangible left to pass on to future generations, legacies were

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

359

seen to play an essential role in adolescents identity development. In Manoogians research, cultural assimilation of grandchildren was acutely painful
to these refugees because their stories, traditions, and values were all that they
could provide to link these young people to their roots.
Some of our own research also underscores the importance of intergenerational connection in the lives and stories of older adults (Norris & Tari,
1985). This investigation focused on 33 grandmothers and grandfathers who
were interviewed at least twice about the meaning of being a grandparent in
the context of other important roles, activities, and events in their lives. One
question of particular interest was the perception of intergenerational similarity in grandparenting styles through generations of the family. Thus, these
older adults were asked to reXect on the kind of grandparents that their own
parents and grandparents had been. Interestingly, most of these grandparents
did not highlight past intergenerational similarity, but stressed that their
approaches to their grandchildren were consistent with those used by their
adult children. Modern child-rearing strategies, while perhaps not wholeheartedly endorsed, were at least respected. Their own grandparents, on the
other hand, were frequently characterized as rigid disciplinarians who had little time for children. Consider this 65-year-old womans reXection on previous generations of grandparents: My mother was, well she didnt show too
much aVection [to my children]. She never showed much aVection, even
though I know that she loved them but she couldnt show it. I can kind of
picture what Ive seen of my mothers parents, and her parents were very, very
strict, very, very strict.
Another grandmother in her early 60s provides a similar story of grandparental uninvolvement, in contrast to her own active pattern of relating to
her grandchildren: I cant really tell you, but they would sit in a chair and
justlike Im a grandparent and we dont sit in a chair when our kids come,
we run around with them. They never ran around with us or played with us.
They talked to us, yes. They talked to us and told us what was right and
wrong. My grandfather sat in a chair and smoked his pipe while he met my
husband-to-be and he was smoking and he said, I like that lad because he
doesnt smoke, and he was smoking all the time his pipe. But they were very
religious Baptists just the same.
Seen from the perspective of intergenerational family systems, patterns of
relating must be understood in the context of perceptions of the familys past
and current traditions, values, and relationships, as well as hopes and beliefs
for the future. Grandparents are in a critical generational position, balancing
a need for closeness and similarity with their children and grandchildren with
a need to remain anchored in the important values of the familys past. It is

360

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

not surprising, then, that the grandparents in our research provide sympathetic stories about their own parents and grandparents approach to grandchildren, while making it clear that they have more up-to-date methods of
relating and socializing with their own grandchildren. Modern grandparents
see endorsement in the value of hard work in their own grandparents stern
approach to life, while presenting this value to their grandchildren through
stories that have a gentler touch, ones that Wt current social norms and childrearing approaches.
Values Transmission

While babysitting a while ago, I caught my granddaughter lying about a situation and blaming someone else for something she had done. I tried to stress
upon her she would get into more trouble for lying than she would for the
actual incident. She was punished for both, more severely for lying. To my
knowledge, she has not lied to me since. I think I got through to her it is better to own up at the beginning (DeForge, 2002).
One of the most common motives attributed to grandparents who tell stories to their grandchildren is that of teaching important personal and family
values (e.g., Kandell, 1996). Bengtson has termed the intergenerational sharing of beliefs and values consensual solidarity, and notes that many social
theorists have regarded the successful socialization of grandchildren by their
grandparents to be evidence of social stability (Silverstein et al., 1998). Our
own work within an intergenerational systems framework underscores the
perceived importance of shared family values to all family members, but
particularly to grandparents. In one study (Smith, Norris, Pratt, & Arnold,
1998), we asked 84 unrelated adults stratiWed into three age groups (1830;
3163; 65+) to select, from a list of ten core values (e.g., honesty, kindness,
justice), three that they felt their grandparents and had tried to pass on to
them, three that their parents had tried to instill, and three that they had tried
(or would like to try) to transmit to their own children. Responses indicated
more intergenerational consistency in the values picked by the oldest sample
than in those selected by the young. It is, of course, possible that this generational diVerence in perception is due, in part, to cohort diVerences in
the importance of certain family values. Nevertheless, there was also evidence in our Wndings that values consistency can be linked at least as much
to relationship quality and patterns of interaction. When individuals came
from families with more frequent intergenerational contact and feelings of
emotional closeness, they were more likely to report value similarity across
generations.

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

361

In a second study (DeForge, 2002), we examined the shared intergenerational values of 35 families: grandparents, parents, and 8-year-old eldest children. In this study, we once again used the same list of ten core values, as well
as following up by asking parents and grandparents to provide us with stories
that illustrated their eVorts at transmitting these values to the children. Using
our values list, we found substantial similarity within families, including that
between children and grandparentsmuch greater than would be expected
by chance. In fact, intergenerational consistency was sometimes greater than
that within generations (i.e., between mothers and fathers). Even more compelling, perhaps, were parents and grandparents stories. In the case of the
Wilson family, for example, the child chose honest and truthful from our
list of values. Independently, both parents and the maternal grandmother
provided stories that illustrated their attempts to transmit this value:
Mother:

I said to her, You are still in big trouble, but I am glad that you
told me the truth and you are going to get this punishment
instead of this great big one because you didnt lie. It had been
years of telling her that if she tells the truth she will get in less
trouble.
Father:
It is better to tell the truth and get punished, and one thing we
did learn, she did learn that if she lied and then got caught the
punishment would be far worse.
Grandmother: I tried to stress upon my granddaughter that she would get into
more trouble for lying than she would for the actual incident.
She was punished for both, more severely for lying.

Other researchers have commented on the power of grandparents stories


to transmit or reinforce values that they feel are important for their grandchildrens moral socialization. Indeed, McAdoo and McWright (1994) found
that many African American grandparents rely on a narrative short form
the proverbin their eVorts to teach important values. We know less about
whether these children actually receive these moral messages, although our
work on shared intergenerational values just described suggests that family
level transmission and exchange may be occurring.
Generativity: A Moderator of Grandparents Goals
in Storytelling

Generativity, in Eriksons (1963) life span developmental framework, represents the period of midlife when adults are said to invest especially in the care
of future generations as a legacy of the self. The prototype of this period is
parenting, and indeed previous work has suggested that high levels of gener-

362

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

ativity in midlife are associated with more engaged and eVective parenting of
children and adolescents (McAdams, 2001; Peterson, Smirles, & Wentworth,
1997; Pratt, Danso, Arnold, Norris, & Filyer, 2001). However, it seems plausible that individual variations in generativity may remain an important predictor of diVerent patterns of engagement in family roles into later adulthood
as well (Norris et al., 2003). As already discussed, family stories can play an
important role in socializing the young into both the family and its history
and traditions, as well as into the wider culture and its values. Given this, how
might variations in levels of generativity among older adults be related to the
sorts of family stories that they tell? We conceive of generativity among
grandparents as a moderator of the ways that storytelling goals are manifested. In this section, we describe two relevant studies, one with a general
sample of older adults, and one including a family sample of grandparents.
In the initial study, we investigated how younger and older adults drew on
their own personal life stories in the teaching of values to youngsters (Pratt,
Norris, Arnold, & Filyer, 1999). In a previous study by McAdams, Diamond,
de St. Aubin, and MansWeld (1997), midlife adults who were identiWed as
very high on generativity by the nominations of others were likely to tell distinctive life stories in several ways, compared to a less generative group of
adults. These diVerences often were expressed in optimistic themes among
the highly generative. For example, generative adults focused on feelings of
special opportunities (early blessings) in their early family lives that they felt
needed to be reciprocated or given back in later life, as well as on redemptive structures in their stories. Redemption structures are episodes that involve negative events that are followed by or transformed into an event or
outcome that is positive. Such redemptively oriented stories are of course
widely available, and popular, in our culture. One thinks of A Christmas Carol
(Dickens, 1986) or the recent A Beautiful Mind (Nasar, 1998). McAdams et
al.s results suggest that generative people may appropriate such structures
into their personal life narratives more readily than do others (e.g., McAdams
& Bowman, 2001).
In a follow-up to the McAdams study, we investigated the kinds of stories
told by 130 younger (2030), middle-aged (3050), and older (60+) adults
about the personal life experiences that they selected as appropriate for the
purpose of teaching values to the younger generation (Pratt et al., 1999). People were asked to tell two life stories, one teaching about any value they
wished to choose, and a second that was speciWc to teaching about the value
of honesty. Here is the story of a 70-year-old woman, high on McAdamss
standard measure of generativity, the Loyola Generativity Scale, about a personal experience that she would use to teach honesty (Pratt et al., 1999):

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

363

I was a mediocre student and I used to absolutely hate geometry. One time we
were given this homework assignment to do and I couldnt, and so the next day
when I went to school, I didnt want to tell the teacher I hadnt done it because
she was a real battle-axe and I was scared of her. So what I did was I selected
one of the books from the girls who had handed their assignments in, and went
to the washroom and I copied it into my book. I felt quite content, but then
two days later I got my book back, and the teacher said on the bottom, Please
see me. So the girl Id copied from also had a note and we went to see the
teacher. And so of course I had to own up to the fact that Id copied and it just
happened to be the wrong book, because we both had these same silly answers
to the question. So I was really scared, but the teacher sat down and had a good
talk with me, and she said, Im going to help you understand. And from that
moment on, I realized she wasnt so horrible, and she really helped me a lot.
I was scared out of my wits, but as soon as Id managed to explain what happened I felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. . . . And so I told this story to
my daughter, who was having problems in another subject, and she did this
exact same thing. And I was able to help her realize it was the wrong thing to
do with my example because Id done it myself. (p. 422)

This story in fact clearly shows the elements of both generative themes
(caring for the young) and redemptive structures that involve turning bad
events into good. Several results from the study help to demonstrate the
importance of variations in generativity for the stories of older adults. First,
older adults in our sample were more likely to tell stories for children that
had generative themes, and as likely to tell redemptively structured episodes,
as were the two younger age groups (Pratt et al., 1999). Second, like the
Wndings of McAdams et al. (1997), older adults who were higher on generative concern on a questionnaire (the standard Loyola Generativity Scale of
McAdams and de St. Aubin, 1992) were more likely to tell personal stories
that included these two key properties of generative themes and redemptive
structures. Third, stories by those in all age groups, including the oldest,
that had these two properties were judged by a panel of raters who read and
rated the stories without any instructions to be more interesting and engaging overall. Presumably, then, they might be more meaningful and memorable as value messages as well, though we do not have direct evidence on
this point. Finally, generative older adults were more likely than nongenerative adults to express motivation for teaching values to the younger generation (Pratt et al., 1999). These Wndings, then, suggested that generativity
among older adults was linked to both greater investment in socialization
processes and diVerent styles of narrating the life story in the service of such
socialization.

364

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

How might all this be relevant to the role of grandparenting speciWcally?


As noted previously, a number of earlier studies have pointed to a range of
styles of grandparenting that diVerent adults in our culture adopt, including those with rather distant or passive patterns, for example, who have
lower investment in actively socializing their grandchildren (Cherlin & Furstenberg, 1985; Neugarten & Weinstein, 1964). These types of grandparenting styles were contrasted with those who were more engaged and involved
in socialization and disciplining (authoritative or inXuential types, according to Cherlin & Furstenberg, 1985). Our results for the mature adult
sample above would suggest that generative grandparents might be engaged
more actively in socialization roles than are others. In a second study, we
explored this hypothesis through examining grandparents stories of interactions with their own grandchildren (Pratt, Norris, Kelly, & Arnold, 2003).
In this research, we asked 78 grandparents, aged about 6567 on average,
to complete a questionnaire for us. These grandparents were drawn from a
sample of 35 intact, middle-class families with an 8-year-old eldest child, and
represented a sample of individuals drawn quite equally from all four grandparenting roles (maternal and paternal grandmothers and grandfathers). As
part of their questionnaires, these grandparents were asked to Wll out the standard Loyola Generativity Scale (LGS), as well as to write two brief stories
about their own elementary-school-aged grandchild, a story about teaching a
value to this child, as well as a story about a time when they were proud of the
child. We examined the diVerences in the types of stories told by grandparents who were high on the LGS measure, versus those of grandparents who
scored low. We were interested in whether diVerences in engagement in the
grandparent role would be reXected in these stories, so we coded them for the
speciWcity of their examples of socialization, with good reliability between
two independent raters. We hypothesized that greater investment would
be associated with more detailed and speciWc story episodes of teaching and
pride.
Our Wndings indeed pointed to distinctive diVerences in the stories told by
each of these groups. Generative grandparents (those above the overall sample
median score on the LGS) were likely to recall stories of value teaching that
stressed speciWc episodes or qualities of the child, whereas less generative
grandparents often said they could not recall any such episode, or reported
that they did not see this as their role. For example, here is the comment of a
less generative grandfather regarding teaching a value to his granddaughter:
My granddaughter is too young to have done much. Another less generative
grandfather wrote: Lets face it. I have lots of grandchildren, and I love them

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

365

all, but when we babysit them or visit them we know that theyre going back
to their parents, so its not the same as your own kids. So most situations, I
leave it up to the parents. I guess you could call it chickening out ha-ha!
These latter comments are hardly unusual among grandparents, who often
seek to minimize the disciplinary aspects of their role, as we noted earlier.
Then, too, issues of generational diVerences in discipline are often problematic, and this may be one way to limit friction around them (Smith, 1995).
But contrast this view with the quite speciWc story written by a highly generative grandmother: One day while my husband, Sandy and myself were at
the park, we ran into a group of kids. Instead of playing nicely with each
other, they were picking on one little boy, calling him names, and saying
mean things. You could see the hurt on his face, in his eyes. When Sandy
asked why they were being so mean, we explained that the names they were
calling him had to do with where the boys family was from. We explained to
Sandy that it does not matter about where people come from, or the color of
their skin. Everyone is the same.
Among the value teaching stories of grandparents, 82% of those above the
median score on the LGS told a story that was judged concrete and speciWc,
like the preceding example of Sandy, according to our coding system. For
those who were low on the LGS, however, only 50% wrote a story about
a speciWc episode of value teaching, a signiWcant diVerence by chi-square
(p < .05), suggesting evidence of more speciWc socialization engagement for
more generative grandparents.
While most grandparents were enthusiastic when asked to tell of episodes
of pride in their grandchildren, more generative grandparents diVered from
less generative grandparents in being better able to articulate speciWc qualities
of the child that made them feel this way. For example, one highly generative
grandmother said, Last Christmas, Billy got a toy at the dinner table. His
younger cousin did not like the toy he got and began to cry. Billy quickly
oVered to trade toys with Andy. I feel Billy is very sensitive and thoughtful,
and Im proud of him as a person. Less generative grandparents had trouble
coming up with speciWc experiences; some said they could think of none, or
simply said they were always proud. Some, as in the example here from a
grandmother who scored low on the LGS, talked more about how the child
had been nice to, or proud of, them. My story is about the pictures that
Mary drew of my dog, and all the pictures shes sent me over the years. Ive
kept them in a box, so shell have them, long after Im gone. I also get lots of
photos and when I phone her mom, she always says, Hi, Grandma. This
makes me feel really good.

366

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

Analysis of those grandparents scoring above the median on generativity


on the LGS again showed that these individuals wrote stories of pride that
were likely to be focused on speciWc positive qualities of the child in our coding system (77%), whereas those who were lower on generativity were less
likely to write a story incorporating any such speciWc elements (47%). This
again was a parallel trend in the chi-square analysis (p < .06) in the type of
proud stories told about grandchildren by those grandparents diVering in
their relative level of generative concern.
As we had expected, then, more generative adults seemed more engaged in
the socialization aspects of the grandparenting role, as reXected in the stories
they told about the grandchild, both about a speciWc episode of value teaching and about a time when they were proud of the child. We infer this because
generative grandparents seemed better able to recall concrete instances of
these types of interactions with their grandchildren than were others. Our
results with grandparents and grandchildren resemble those reported by
McAdams (this volume) with regard to the recall of family stories in general
among midlife adults, which was found to be more diYcult for those low on
generativity. We should also note that these patterns did not vary systematically by age or gender of the grandparent, gender of the grandchild, or
amount of time reportedly spent with the grandchild (Pratt et al., 2003).
These results suggest, then, that variations in engagement across the grandparenting styles reported in earlier literature (e.g., Cherlin & Furstenberg,
1985) might be linked to variations in levels of generativity among grandparents, though further evidence would be needed to test this directly.
As described earlier, grandparents are at a kind of intergenerational fulcrum within the family, spanning many generations in their own lives and
personal experiences, and thus providing special opportunities for linking the
generations in important ways through the stories they tell. The goal of
encouraging such close intergenerational bonds may also be pursued more
actively by generative grandparents. In earlier work, we found that older
adults who were more generative reported feeling closer to their own parents
and grandparents than did others (Norris et al., 2003). Peterson (2002) has
reported similar Wndings regarding generative midlife women and their relations with their older parents. We suggest, then, that grandparents who are
more generative, and thus perhaps more engaged with this role and concerned with family legacies, may be more likely to actively implement our
three key goals of strengthening family bonds, conveying family history, and
socializing values through the stories they tell to and about their grandchildren. In this speciWc sense, then, generativity in maturity may be a moderator
of the vigor and eVectiveness of these narrative functions in the family.

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

367

CONCLUSIONS

We have noted that with increasing longevity and the verticalization of the
family, there are likely to be more living grandparents and a greater likelihood
that younger members of any family will have the opportunity for a relationship with grandparents. Increased interest in the role of grandparents in the
family has resulted in literature that attempts to create rather simplistic typologies for how grandparents behave. This approach has met with mixed success, and may actually obscure our understanding of the interaction between
younger and older family members and the negotiation of relationships
between them.
The theoretical framework of the Intergenerational Family Systems Model
(Norris et al., 2003) permits an exploration of how relationships are negotiated between younger and older family members. This model directs researchers attention to the bidirectional inXuences of each family member in
socializing one another to patterns of belief and behaviors. Socialization is
inXuenced by memories and beliefs about the past, as well as by hopes for
the future. A family systems approach also encourages consideration of inXuences from extended kin (such as aunts or uncles), Wctive kin, and steprelationships. Further, it acknowledges the dynamic nature of the family systemthe time element directs our attention to development of individuals
in the family and the eVect of this development on the family system as a
whole.
In this chapter, we have emphasized that one method by which intergenerational interaction and relationship building may be examined is through
the study of storytelling. Our research indicates that there are at least four
functions of storytelling within intergenerational relations: building the relationship, education about personal and historical events, value transmission,
and the expression of generativity. This chapter has examined research on
these four functions and provided examples to demonstrate their role in relationships across the generations. These functions of storytelling, not surprisingly, overlap considerably with the themes identiWed in grandparents written stories composed for grandchildren, as described in the chapter by Ryan
et al. (this volume). For example, grandparents in this work point to the
importance of narrative as a means of telling their own stories, bringing their
experiences of world history alive, and oVering advice. Grandchildren in
the same studies express an appreciation of their grandparents eVorts to
strengthen family relationships and to explain personal and family histories.
As well, they note their own reciprocal eVorts at providing advice and linking

368

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

the culture of their own generation to that of their grandparents. Both generations underscore our argument that intergenerational storytelling fulWlls
important roles in building relationships and promoting a sense of history
and shared values within families.
Relationships between younger and older family members may be built
through storytelling. Storytelling can be entertaining, both for the listener
and for the storyteller, and can create a connection between the two. Family
history also can be transferred across generations in this manner and represents a way to make sense of where one has come from. Relationships may
also be built speciWcally by the sharing of personal or historical events. Appreciating the events leading up to the present day in the form of familial history
provides any family member with a sense of personal history, identity, and
validation. Sharing important familial values through storytelling allows the
older generation to impart the wisdom of their own experiences in a manner
that younger family members may apply to their own lives. These concrete
and personal stories may represent guideposts for how to behave in ambiguous or challenging situations, and adults often refer to such exemplars in their
own life tales (Pratt & Norris, 1999). Finally, a sense of generativity on the
part of the older family members, or an attempt to strength family ties across
the generations, can be both accomplished and expressed through storytelling. As we have argued, the various functions of storytelling in the grandparent role may be especially salient and frequent among those who are more
generative in their personal life tasks and roles. These Wndings suggest that
generativity remains an important element within the family beyond the
period of midlife and parenting (e.g., Pratt et al., 1999), well into the roles of
later life, and serves as a moderator variable in guiding how these important
functions of storytelling are expressed.
Our work suggests that intergenerational families would do well to follow
the lead of Studs Terkel and put some eVort into uncovering the personal
narratives of older members. The increasing diversity and complexity of
families make it less likely that some traditions and values will endure
through generations. But one could argue that there was never a time when
it was more important for children to feel rooted, secure, and conWdent
about the future. If family storytelling were to be lost to mass-produced
entertainment, then an important means of establishing intergenerational
connections will have been lost as well. Those who are fortunate enough to
have living grandparents do not need to rely on media portrayals of older
people as embodiments of important values and models of successful aging.
More relevant inspiration is closer at hand. Indeed, with the growing numbers of older adults who act as surrogate parents to their grandchildren,

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

369

researchers have begun to suggest an even larger role for grandparents in


shaping the lives of young people (Hayslip et al., 2000; Kopera-Frye & Wiscott, 2000).
A fruitful avenue for future research would be to consider how variations
in grandparenting behaviorand speciWcally in storytelling behavior provide information about the forms of grandparenting and likewise about interaction within the increasingly common multigenerational family. We submit
that to understand the changing relationships within a family system, it is
important to hear the stories of multiple generations of family members. The
intergenerational family systems model directs attention to an analysis of the
patterns of interaction that occur within family roles and relationships. This
approach should aVord us a better understanding of comments such as those
of Mr. Sparkshusband of the grandmother who introduced our chapter
and the creator of this chapters title: We love our kids and our grandchildren
but there is a limit to what time . . . when you are living your own life as we
are here and we have commitments one way and another. Well, we are happy
to see them as long as they go back down the driveway at the end of the day.
AVection for ones grandchildren may well occur within the context of a need
for some intergenerational distance as well. How this balance is struck and
maintained is probably the result of the interaction of personal predilections,
family tradition, and ongoing negotiation with a spouse, adult children, and
the grandchildren themselves. As we have found in our own work (Beaton,
Norris, & Pratt, 2003), seemingly straightforward questions about which
grandparents to visit for the holidays are not at all simple for many young
couples with children. Both husbands and wives may struggle with ambivalent feelings as they assert their own needs, while remaining mindful of their
connections to parents and in-laws. Studies based in the complex and dynamic perspective aVorded by a family systems model certainly seem worthwhile when investigating such intergenerational dynamics and the stories that
reXect these family relations.

PUTTING STORYTELLING INTO PRACTICE

In this chapter, we have argued that storytelling is a vital part of rewarding


intergenerational relationships. How, then, might we encourage this activity
in busy modern families? Our research suggests that grandparents, parents,
and grandchildren all have a part to play. In conclusion, we would like to oVer
a few suggestions as to how each of the authors in the intergenerational family story might add further chapters:

370

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

Grandparents:
Take any opportunity for communication. If you wait for a cozy
moment in a rocking chair, this may never come especially as a
young child grows older. Instead, explore your grandchilds interest
in video games. How does a war game like Medal of Honor relate
to your experiences as veteran?
Write an e-mail and enroll in an online chat service. Kids love to get
mail, but are not likely to write a letter in return. You can get a faster,
more interactive response using their technology. This is true even if
you live next door.
If you live nearby, help your grandchildren with their homework. Children have many assignments that require a broad perspective on the
world and provide an opportunity to explore your views and values.
Expose your grandchildren to the activities about which you are passionate. Stories easily emerge as you explain why you love to cook, volunteer with the food bank, or are an active advocate for animal welfare.
Parents:
Have an open-door policy. Whatever your relationship with your
parents, remember that they are important to your children.
Invite your parents to babysit. Most grandparents are happy for an
opportunity to see and interact with their grandchildren for a
limited period.
Keep your parents informed about the activities of your children. If
your father knows that your son is an avid hockey player, it becomes
much easier to talk about his experiences in the small town arena.
Grandchildren:
Ask your grandparents for help with your homework, your naturalist
badge for Scouts, or a ride to the ballet studio. They welcome some
private time with you, and are often more patient than your parents.
Get your grandparents to tell you about the time your mom or dad
was a problem for them. Grandparents love to do this! And it provides
for very entertaining stories for you.
Share your knowledge of technology. If your grandparents can send
you an e-mail, or you can send them your latest artwork as an attachment in your return message, youll both feel a sense of accomplishment and have a special way of interacting.

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

371

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The research reported in this chapter was supported in part by Social Sciences
and Humanities Research Council of Canada grants to authors Pratt, Norris,
and to Mary Louise Arnold.

REFERENCES
Beaton, J., Norris, J. E., & Pratt, M. W. (2003). Unresolved issues in adult childrens marital
relationships involving intergenerational problems. Family Relations, 52, 143153.
Chaitin, J. (2002). Issues and interpersonal values among three generations in families of
Holocaust survivors. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 19, 379402.
Cherlin, A., & Furstenberg, F. (1985). Styles and strategies of grandparenting. In V. L. Bengtson & J. Robertson (Eds.), Grandparenthood (pp. 97116). Beverley Hills, CA: Sage.
DeForge, R. T. (2002). Examining shared values, attitudes and beliefs across three generations of
families. Unpublished masters thesis, University of Guelph, Guelph, Ontario, Canada.
Dickens, C. (1986). A Christmas carol. New York: Bantam Books. (Original work published
1843)
Erikson, E. (1963). Youth: Change and challenge. New York: Basic Books.
Fischer, L. R., & Silverman, J. (1982, November). Grandmothering as a tenuous role relationship. Paper presented at the National Council on Family Relations, Portland, OR.
Giarrusso, R., Feng, D., Silverstein, M., & Bengtson, V. L. (2001). Grandparent-adult grandchild aVection and consensus: Cross-generational and cross-ethnic comparisons. Journal of
Family Issues, 22, 456477.
Gladstone, J. W. (1988). Perceived changes in grandmother-grandchild relations following a
childs separation or divorce. Gerontologist, 28, 6672.
Hayslip, B., Jr., & Goldberg-Glen, R. (Eds.). (2000). Grandparents raising grandchildren: Theoretical, empirical, and clinical perspectives. New York: Springer.
Hayslip, B., Jr., Shore, J. R., & Henderson, C. E. (2000). Perceptions of grandparents inXuence in the lives of their grandchildren. In B. Hayslip, Jr., & R. Goldberg-Glen (Eds.),
Grandparents raising grandchildren: Theoretical, empirical, and clinical perspectives (pp. 35
46). New York: Springer.
Kandell, S. L. (1996). Grandparents tales: Stories our children need to hear. Dissertation
Abstracts International Section A: Humanities & Social Sciences, 57(1-A), 0028 (UMI
9613924).
Kennedy, G. E. (1992). Shared activities of grandparents and grandchildren. Psychological
Reports, 70, 211227.
Kennedy, G. E., & Kennedy, C. E. (1993). Grandparents: A special resource for children in
stepfamilies. Journal of Divorce and Remarriage, 19, 4568.
Kopera-Frye, K., & Wiscott, R. (2000). Intergenerational continuity. Transmission of beliefs
and culture. In B. Hayslip, Jr., & R. Goldberg-Glen (Eds.), Grandparents raising grandchildren: Theoretical, empirical, and clinical perspectives (pp. 6584). New York: Springer.
Manoogian, M. M. (2002). Linking generations: The family legacies of older Armenian

372

NORRIS, KUIACK, PRAT T

mothers. Dissertation Abstracts International, Section A: The Humanities and Social Sciences,
62(8), 2894-A.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). Generativity at midlife. In M. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife
development (pp. 395443). New York: Wiley.
McAdams, D. P., & Bowman, P. (2001). Narrating lifes turning points: Redemption and contamination. In D. McAdams, R. Josselson, & A. Leiblich (Eds.), Turns in the road: Narrative studies of lives in transition (pp. 334). Washington, DC: APA Press.
McAdams, D. P., & de St. Aubin, E. (1992). A theory of generativity and its assessment
through self-report, behavioral acts, and narrative themes in autobiography. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 62, 10031015.
McAdams, D. P., Diamond, A., de St. Aubin, E., & MansWeld, E. (1997). Stories of commitment: The psychosocial construction of generative lives. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 72, 678694.
McAdoo, H. P., & McWright, L. A. (1994). The roles of grandparents: The use of proverbs in
value transmission. Activities, Adaptation & Aging, 19, 2738.
Nasar, S. (1998). A beautiful mind: The life of mathematical genius and Nobel laureate John
Nash. New York: Touchstone.
Neugarten, B., & Weinstein, K. (1964). The changing American grandparent. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 26, 199204.
Norris, J. E., Pratt, M. W., & Kuiack, S. (2003). Parent-child relations in adulthood: An intergenerational family systems perspective. In L. Kucznyski (Ed.), Handbook of dynamics in
parent-child relations (pp. 325344). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Norris, J. E., & Tari, A. J. (1985). [Grandparenting relations.] Unpublished raw data.
Norris, J. E., & Tindale, J. A. (1994). Among generations: The cycle of adult relationships. New
York: Freeman.
Nussbaum, J. F., & Bettini, L. M. (1994). Shared stories of the grandparent-grandchild relationship. International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 39, 6780.
Obler, L. (1989). Language beyond childhood. In J. B. Gleason (Ed.), The development of language (2nd ed., pp. 275302). Columbus, OH: Merrill Publishing.
Peterson, B. (2002). A longitudinal analysis of midlife generativity, intergenerational roles and
caregiving. Psychology and Aging, 17, 161168.
Peterson, B., Smirles, K., & Wentworth, P. (1997). Generativity and authoritarianism: Implications for personality, political involvement and parenting. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 72, 12021216.
Pratt, M. W., Danso, H., Arnold, M. L., Norris, J., & Filyer, R. (2001). Adult generativity and
the socialization of adolescents: Relations to mothers and fathers parenting beliefs, styles
and practices. Journal of Personality, 69, 89120.
Pratt, M. W., & Norris, J. (1999). Moral development in maturity: Lifespan perspectives on
the processes of successful aging. In T. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition
and aging (pp. 291317). New York: Academic Press.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J., Arnold, M. L., & Filyer, R. (1999). Generativity and moral development as predictors of value socialization narratives for young persons across the adult lifespan: From lessons learned to stories shared. Psychology and Aging, 14, 414426.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J. E., Kelly, A., & Arnold, M. L. (2003, April). The apple of their eye:
Older adults levels of Eriksonian generativity and the stories they tell about their grandchildren.
Poster presented at the biennial meetings of the Society for Research in Child Development, Tampa, FL.

15.

SATISFACTIONS AND CHALLENGES OF GRANDPARENTHOOD

373

Pratt, M. W., & Robins, S. (1991). Thats the way it was: Age diVerences in the structure and
quality of adults personal narratives. Discourse Processes, 14, 7385.
Putney, N., & Bengtson, V. (2001). Families, intergenerational relationships, and kinkeeping
in midlife. In M. E. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife development (pp. 528570). New
York: Wiley.
Ryan, E. B., Elliot, G. M., & Anas, A. P. Eds. (2000). Exchanges between us: More intergenerational connections. Hamilton: McMaster Centre for Gerontological Studies.
Ryan, E. B., Elliot, G. M., & Meredith, S. D. (Eds.). (1999). From me to you: Intergenerational
connections through storytelling. Hamilton: McMaster Centre for Gerontological Studies.
Silverstein, M., Giarrusso, R., & Bengtson, V. L (1998). Intergenerational solidarity and the
grandparent role. In M. E. Szinovacz (Ed.), Handbook on grandparenthood (pp. 144158).
Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.
Smith, M., Norris, J. E., Pratt, M. W., & Arnold, M. L. (1998, October). Examining the transmission of values between generations. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Canadian
Association on Gerontology, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.
Smith, P. K. (1995). Grandparenthood. In M. Bornstein (Ed.), Handbook of parenting (Vol. 3,
pp. 89112). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Terkel, S. (2002). Tell it like it was: A Pulitzer-winning journalists tips for preserving your family story. Modern Maturity. Retrieved August 30, 2002 from http://www.modernmaturity
.org/dpartments/2002/lifestyle

16
Writing a Connection:
Intergenerational
Communication Through Stories
Ellen Bouchard Ryan
McMaster University

Kristine A. Pearce
University of Toronto

Ann P. Anas
McMaster University

Joan E. Norris
University of Guelph
Everyone needs to have access both to grandparents and grandchildren in
order to be a full human being.
Mead, 1972, p. 311

One of the most important relationships many people experience within their
lifetime is that between grandparent and grandchild. The experience of having been a grandchild and then a grandparent gives one a true stake in humanity through connections back in time two generations and forward two
generations (Norris, Pratt, & Kuiack, in press). These connections are forged
through communication, including the sharing of stories.

SETTING THE CONTEXT

As people begin to live longer and healthier lives, greater numbers of people
will be undertaking the role of the grandparent for longer periods (Giarrusso,
375

376

RYA N E T A L .

Silverstein, & Bengtson, 1996; Kennedy, 1990). This increase in grandparenting can signiWcantly aVect society, as both grandparents and their grandchildren have much to gain and contribute through this special family relationship. Yet, it is sometimes diYcult for younger and older family members
to communicate with each other because of diVerent interests, stereotypes of
aging, geographical distance, and the fast pace of contemporary life.
In this chapter, we explore story writing as a means of bridging the generations. First, we brieXy review the literature concerning the relationships
between grandparents and grandchildren and the role of storytelling within
those relationships. Second, we present a narrative analysis of letters and stories written by grandparents for grandchildren and by grandchildren for their
grandparents. Major themes from both grandparent and grandchild writings
are described, in addition to speciWc beneWts associated with intergenerational communication through writing. Finally, we discuss the implications of
this study in terms of grandparent-grandchild relationships and the importance for older adults to record their life stories for family.
Communication Between Grandparents
and Grandchildren

Scholars have described the many roles grandparents play in their grandchildrens lives. Grandparents give grandchildren love and aVection, support,
trust, connections to the past, family heritage, and moral values, and they act
as role models (Brussoni & Boon, 1998; Kalliopuska, 1994, Kornhaber, 1996;
Szinovacz, 1998). In return, grandchildren give grandparents joy, inspiration,
love, and hope for the future (Kalliopuska, 1994).
The roles and meanings of grandparent-grandchild relationships are highly
diverse in modern North American society (Silverstein, Giarrusso, & Bengtson, 1998; Strom et al., 1999; Tomlin, 1998; Williams & Nussbaum, 2001).
Major sources of variability include cultural diVerences, gender of grandparent, parental divorce, and cases where the grandparent takes on the role of the
parent. Moreover, roles and the relationship inevitably change as the grandparent and the grandchild traverse through the stages of life (Norris & Tindale, 1994; Roberto & Skoglund, 1996). For example, individual variability
in the meaning of grandparenthood has been assessed by Kivnick (1983).
Life-history interviews were carried out with grandparents aged 40 to 90 years,
yielding Wve dimensions in the meaning of grandparenthood: centrality
grandparenthood central to an older persons life; valued elder passing on
tradition and being valued in the role; immortality through clan commit-

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

377

ment to the future of the family; reinvolvement with personal past identiWcation with own grandparents; indulgence leniency towards grandchildren. It is problematic to apply this typology to all grandparents, because
additional diversity is quite likely (Norris & Tindale, 1994). Nevertheless, the
conceptualization does remind researchers of the underlying importance and
richness of the grandparenting role to older adults.
It is often diYcult for grandparents and grandchildren to maintain optimal relationships with each other (Harwood & Lin, 2000; Silverstein et al.,
1998; Williams & Nussbaum, 2001). The increased pace of life associated
with technological change can make it diYcult for diVerent generations to
connect. Young people may be busy and have little contact in general with
older people, whom they might consider slow and out of date. The relationship can be strained by the diYculties of some life stages such as adolescence
for grandchildren and frailty of extreme old age for grandparents. Geographical distance may exacerbate the impact of these potential obstacles. Yet, level
of satisfaction can remain high even with declining frequency of contact as
grandchildren age, and the relationship can be enriched by eVorts on the part
of grandparents and/or grandchildren at any stage of their lives (Kornhaber,
1996; Tomlin, 1998). In most families, the generations adapt to changing circumstances to support and maintain cherished beliefs, values, and patterns of
relating (Norris et al., in press).
Storytelling

Societies all over the world have especially valued the stories of their older
members as a way of passing on the wisdom of experience from generation to
generation (Kenyon, 1996, 2002; McAdams, Diamond, St. Aubin, & MansWeld, 1997; Mergler & Goldstein, 1983). Older persons can fulWll their call
to generativity by transmitting cultural and family values through stories for
their grandchildren (Norris, Kuiack, & Pratt, this volume). In contemporary
North America, stories told by older adults are viewed as more eVective than
those told by young adults (Adams-Price, 1998; Pratt & Robins, 1991).
The act of sharing stories has long been associated with the grandparents
role, and is one of the most frequently recorded types of exchange between
grandparents and grandchildren (Kornhaber, 1996; McKay & Caverly, 1995;
Tomlin, 1998). Grandparents play a crucial role in passing on information
about family members and historical events through storytelling. This activity facilitates identity formation and builds strong relationships between the
grandchildren and all of their family members (see Norris, Kuiack, & Pratt,

378

RYA N E T A L .

this volume; Pratt & Fiese, this volume). In addition, grandparents use
stories to teach moral values even as they entertain and establish a sense of
closeness.
Nussbaum and Bettini (1994) conducted a study in which college students
shared stories reXecting the meaning of life with one of their grandparents.
Gender diVerences occurred, in which grandfathers spoke more reticently
and more about mastery, while grandmothers were more likely to emphasize
the salience of family to their deWnition of self and to their happiness. Grandchildren rarely told stories, but rather oVered lists of qualities or a set of
points. The contrasting Xuency of grandparent stories suggests that storytelling tends to be unidirectional from grandparent to grandchild in many
families.
Story Writing

Although older adults have traditionally passed down valuable information to


younger generations through storytelling in face-to-face situations, this intergenerational communication can also be done through writing. One can
write letters and share written stories with grandchildren and one can write
ones memoirs to share with the family.
Life stories can help preserve ones immortality. Grandparents may feel
more satisWed in knowing that their memories and beliefs will carry on
through their grandchildren. Writing the stories enables people to take an
active approach to their lives by allowing them to express themselves and to
explore their sense of identity and continuity. Moreover, exchanging written
stories or letters can transcend geographical distances which limit opportunities for face-to-face encounters (Harwood, 2000).
Schuster (1998) investigated the eVects of nursing home residents writings on familial relationships and found that the perceived status of the
older person was raised when the written works were shared with family
members. While nursing home residents are often not viewed as contributors to society, this study found that the writing activities caused the
younger generation to view the elders as more complete, accomplished
people, which transformed the way they related to their elders. The writing
activities gave the residents a sense of control and raised self-esteem, since
they actively created works, often for family occasions such as weddings and
family reunions. Thus, both the older adults views of themselves and the
younger generations perceptions were positively transformed, leading to
more satisfying interactions.

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

379

THE PRESENT STUDY

Collecting Intergenerational Stories

Within this project designed to stimulate intergenerational communication,


we invited older adults, young adults, and elementary school children to
write stories. The older adults were asked to write a story, poem, or letter
addressing a grandchild, or someone like a grandchild, on any subject matter
they chose. It was suggested that the story be centered around a past memorable event, a lesson, or a moral that was of value to them, and that it could
be something they might want to share with the younger person on a special
occasion. Young adults and children were asked to write a story, letter, or
poem for or about their grandparent or any other older adult whom they considered to be a grandparent Wgure in their lives.
The call for stories by the older adults (aged 60 years or older) was open
to the public but focused on those aYliated with gerontological activities
at McMaster University. The younger groups were university-aged students
completing stories for a gerontology creative writing assignment and local elementary school children, ranging in age from 5 to 15 years old, who participated as part of a class project.
All of the submitted stories were rated by at least two evaluators on their
publishability, relevance to intergenerational issues, and goodness of Wt with
the instructions. Those receiving the highest ratings were selected for analysis
and publication in one of two collections entitled From Me to You: Intergenerational Connections Through Storytelling (Book I; Ryan, Elliot, & Meredith,
1999) and Exchanges Between Us: More Intergenerational Connections (Book
II; Ryan, Elliot, & Anas, 2000). There were 62 older authors (53 females and
9 males), 38 university authors (36 females and 2 males), and 52 elementary
school authors (41 females, and 11 males). Even though a few of the writers
were not actually writing to their grandchild or grandparent, we refer to the
older group as the grandparent authors throughout the chapter. Both the
young adults and school children are referred to as the grandchild authors.
Narrative Analysis

These stories were examined using a thematic analysis approach to describe


what grandparents and grandchildren chose to convey, how this exempliWed
meaningful intergenerational communication, and the value of story writing

380

RYA N E T A L .

in the grandparent-grandchild relationship. Thematic analysis has been identiWed as possessing many beneWts, because it addresses the individuals point
of view, experiences, life views, and beliefs (Luborsky, 1994). We used both
approaches outlined by Luborsky (1994) to discover themes: searching for
repeated or recurring statements, and examining statements marked by the
author as being especially signiWcant. This approach is well established in
other research on narrative content, including studies of grandparenting (e.g.,
Roberto, Allen, & Blieszner, 2001). An open coding system was used to create a complete list of themes and patterns in the writing. During this process,
input was obtained from two of the other chapter authors. Where there were
disagreements about which themes were present or where themes overlapped,
discussions were held to reach consensus. Each story quotation given
throughout the remainder of this chapter is identiWed with a code corresponding to Book I or Book II and the number of the Wrst page of the story.
Grandparent Themes

The most evident themes identiWed in the older adults stories were: history,
family, advice, and life story. Also, the stories provided a window into the various relationships that many grandparents share with their grandchildren.
One of the most common themes that emerged from the older
adults stories was the theme of history. The majority of references to history
focused on the war, the Depression, and the conveniences that society now
has acquired compared to those that were available in the past. Historical
examples from the stories include:
History.

It may seem strange to you why anybody would run for 5 miles to get a popsicle, when in those days a popsicle was only worth 3 cents, but these were the
days of the Great Depression and even 3 cents were hard to come by. (Book I,
p. 52)
The world of today has brought many wonderful changes. To hear from my
Mother I had to wait three weeks for a letter to come by ship. My granddaughter talks to her Mother on the E-mail three times a week . . . I bless the
technical world of today; it keeps her close to all of us. (Book I, p. 93)
We grabbed a couple of blankets and Skipper . . . hurried down to Citadel Hill.
From time to time the sky would light up with the glow from an explosion. I
never did understand what all the minor explosions were about but they were
deWnitely there throughout the night. (Halifax Explosion, December 1917;
Book II, p. 28)

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

381

The use of speciWc historical examples in the older adults stories supports
the notion that grandparents undertake the role of the provider of history to
the younger generation (Kornhaber, 1996; McKay & Caverly, 1995; Roberto
& Skoglund, 1996). Through the use of concrete and personal experiences, as
shared in the grandparents stories, grandchildren may begin to interpret historical events as having had a personal impact on their own family. Since the
younger generation has not been directly exposed to similar historical experiences such as the World Wars, grandparents may view their grandchildren as
being remote to these particular experiences. This gap in historical knowledge between the generations may provide grandparents with the opportunity to enlighten their grandchildren about history through the act of writing.
Similarly, grandchildren may become more interested in their grandparents
lives, and in historical events in general as they come to see their own personal, family connections to the past. Ultimately, understanding ones personal connection to the past may lead to the establishment of a new relationship between the two generations.
Family. Similar to the theme describing historical events, many older
adults wrote to their grandchildren about their family history. Stories in
which this theme emerged often described family members with whom the
grandchild had not been acquainted. Examples of this theme include:
You never knew your great grandparents, at least on your fathers side, but I
know youre interested. Since I love to tell stories, I thought Id like to share
with you a little walk down memory lane . . . My mother, Katie, your great
Grandma, was the youngest of twelve children, born in 1884, pioneer times in
the pioneer country of Grey County. (Book I, p. 22)
[Grandpa] said that when he was a little boy, his grandfather, born in 1790 in
a log cabin in our area, used to get up about four oclock in the morning . . .
This was the man whose portrait, darkened with age, hung in a heavy frame on
the wall behind us. I had never had any idea that it represented a real person
. . . I had heard almost nothing about our predecessors. (Book I, p. 62)
I think that most of us during our lifetime wonder about our roots. We are
curious about our ancestors, and from which set of parents we inherited certain
traits, and set of values . . . my father, William Burton Allen, was a descendent
of the Empire Loyalists . . . my other great-great-great-great-great-grandfather
was one of the Wrst Yorkshire settlers to emigrate to Canada, in 1772. (Book II,
p. 132)

In these stories, the grandparents have used their writing as a means of


communicating to the grandchild a portion of their family history. Within

382

RYA N E T A L .

the descriptions of the family ancestors, older adults are able to describe to the
grandchild where they see themselves as belonging within the larger family
history. Writing about the familys history may thereby provide for some
older adults the opportunity to develop a coherent story about ones self.
The older adult may also be able to use story writing as a means for evaluating ones life in relation to the larger family. As one author writes, much of
what I have preserved would otherwise have been lost forever. Knowledge of
my forbearers achievements has given me encouragement and strength when
times were diYcult (Book I, p. 62). This writer appears to feel a sense of
worth from being able to preserve and learn from the family history.
The stories discussing family history also provided the grandchildren with
an opportunity to learn about people that they might not have personally
known or whom they may have only known through hearing stories about
them. Learning about ones family ethnic roots, for example, appears to
help grandchildren to establish their sense of identity a common challenge
encountered by young people (Giarrusso, Feng, Silverstein, & Bengtson,
2001). A sense of identity may be fostered as the grandchildren begin to see
themselves in relation to the people described in the stories. SpeciWcally, they
may learn whom they resemble, or how they diVer from their family, which
thereby may help to solidify a sense of identity for the grandchild. This point
is further discussed in the grandchildren section of the chapter.
Advice. Many of the stories contained advice that the older adults
wanted to share with their grandchildren. These pieces of advice were typically life lessons they had learned and appeared to have the intention of trying to beneWt the younger generation by expressing the knowledge they had
gained. Examples from stories in which the theme of advice emerged include:
Your entire life will be a path of choices . . . Dont be afraid to choose. Live the
questions; thats the only way to the answers. (Book I, p. 79)
I can honestly say that I have lived a richer life by engaging with my mistakes,
I have come to realize that the one who never makes a mistake is likely someone who never takes a risk either . . . My story of mistakes is meant to help you
avoid making the same ones. (Book I, p. 24)
May you always shine and succeed in whatever you undertake. Also respect
your teachers as they contribute so much to the moulding of your character,
outlook, knowledge and progress of your life . . . (Book II, p. 79)

The grandparent literature suggests that grandchildren interpret one of the


roles grandparents play as that of providing advice or wisdom to help them in

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

383

their lives (Kornhaber, 1996). Based on the frequency of the theme of advice
within the stories included in this study, it is evident that these older adults
also saw their role as one in which they provide guidance and oVer advice to
the young. This sense of generativity or caring for the younger generation is
an important developmental goal of later life, according to Erikson (Gatz &
Zarit, 1999). Writing stories that oVer advice is one method older adults may
use to attain a sense of generativity (Norris et al., this volume).
In some of the stories containing advice, the grandparents attempted to
describe the similarities between themselves and their grandchildren. Within
their stories, the grandparents chose to write about life experiences or lessons
that they felt their grandchildren would also encounter in their lifetime. By
doing so, the older adults create a common ground where grandchildren
and grandparents can potentially relate better to one another. Ultimately, the
result of pointing out the similarities with the younger generation could be
one of greater communication; that is, grandchildren may come to realize
that their grandparents may have had similar life experiences and may be a
valuable source of knowledge. For example, grandchildren may begin to see
their grandparents as undertaking the role of the teacher, where the grandparent provides advice to help the grandchild learn, and potentially to help
them avoid making similar mistakes (McAdoo & McWright, 1994).
One technique for communicating the theme of advice was the use of
Wgurative language. Life metaphors have been identiWed as helping to explain
a diYcult concept or to describe the grandparents life experiences to the
grandchild in a way that the grandchild can easily understand (Nussbaum &
Bettini, 1994). Examples of life metaphors include:
I see life as a cathedrala personal cathedral with marvelous stained glass windows portraying a life story in all its many colours and with windows under
construction . . . Your cathedral has a strong framework, because a loving family helps create the basic framework, but the design of the windows takes a lifetime, and thats the intensely personal part. The windows are constructed of
your lifes experience. (Book I, p. 79)

In this example, it is evident that the author is attempting to compare the


qualities of a cathedral to life. Using this Wgurative device helps to emphasize
to the grandchild that each person experiences diVerent life events which contribute to the creation of ones individuality. Although the following quote
comes from a story that was not selected for publication, it is given here as an
example of an especially vivid metaphor:
I would liken Life to learning alpine skiing, which I took up at 35 between
children 3 or 4. With never a lesson I developed my own technique, not paral-

384

RYA N E T A L .

lel exactly nor graceful, but I can dare the higher peaks and get down them
unscathed. And so, my dear, I dont wish for you skiing without moguls. Else
how . . . will you develop your technique to surmount lifes problems.

In this example, the author uses the metaphor to explain to the grandchild
the value of trying new experiences as well as the importance of developing
ones own individual approach to life. The moguls are also used to represent
lifes challenges. Within this story, the grandparent is not only describing an
event in her life that the grandchild may Wnd interesting (i.e., that the grandparent learned to alpine ski at the age of 35), but is also providing advice or
a life lesson to the grandchild at a more in-depth level. The use of metaphor
is a creative writing technique that grandparents may use to capture their
grandchilds attention, in order to transmit and share the information. Metaphor is one example of the complexity of language, which has been shown to
increase in later adulthood (Adams-Price, 1998).
Life Story. Some of the older adults stories described an event in their
life that was signiWcant to them. One example of a story that contained the
theme of the life story began as follows: It was a happy childhood in spite of
the Depression of the early 1930s (Book I, p. 85). As the story continues,
the writer describes to her grandchild how she grew up in Ireland, later
moved to Canada where she was married, and eventually raised the grandchilds mother. The grandmother concludes her story by writing:
Telling you this little bit about the Wrst 25 years or so of my life makes me wish
. . . that I had asked my mother and father to tell me about their young lives
and what their parents were like . . . Learn what you can from your parents and
grandparents (Book I, p. 85).

The grandparent has described her life to her grandchild and, in so doing, has
undertaken the process of reviewing her life as well. Writing this story has
helped the grandparent realize the importance of knowing about ones family,
and the grandchild is able to come to an understanding that there may be
more to the grandparents life than previously realized. This point is further
exempliWed in a story in which a grandmother describes an event in her
younger life when she stole a lipstick from Mr. Browns Variety Store and the
life lesson she learned from doing so:
To this day, as an adult, I am unable to examine any item in a store without an
awareness of Mr. Brown standing beside me reminding me that no item is
mine until I pay for it . . . My dear grandchild, you have your whole life ahead
of you and you will face many challenges which will require you to make

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

385

choices. With the support of your loving family and community, I know you
will make the right ones. (Book I, p. 58)

From this story, it is clear that the grandparent has learned from her mistakes
and is using the medium of writing to relay a portion of her life story. Other
research has conWrmed the idea that values teaching is an important part of
the grandparent role for many older adults (see Norris et al., this volume).
The anecdote chosen by this grandparent is a clear example of an attempt to
transmit a personally central valuehonesty in an intergenerational context. Many of the life stories we have discussed in this chapter contain such
obvious values-teaching strategies, made palatable through entertaining or
compelling narrative. The grandchild receiving the preceding story may especially beneWt because the events took place when the grandparent was a child,
helping the grandchild to relate to it, and because the tone of the story is
light-hearted and engaging.
Two other examples of the life story are those in which the grandparents
experience in elementary school is described. One writer began his story
describing how he was enrolled in school and the type of school he attended:
I was enrolled in the nearest school, the always reliable one-room schoolhouse with Wve full grades . . . All my early teachers were seventeen-year olds
(Book II, p. 139). The grandparent continues to describe his early experiences
in school and concludes the story stating: It was the end of my education as
a child. From now on, I was a workingman earning his living, as many of my
age, not quite thirteen (Book II, p. 139). Another writer describes a similar
topic. The writer begins the story stating, I started to school when I was
almost seven (Book II, p. 85) and continues on to describe the school, her
teacher, and her Wrst experiences in a classroom environment. The grandparent concludes the story by describing how almost 50 years later she was
reunited with her Grade one teacher when she then realized that her parents
had been right about her teacher being one of the best. This quotation also
exempliWes how new perspectives on ones life can be discovered through the
recounting of experiences. Parenthetically, there is also here an implicit message to the grandchildren to listen to ones parents (advice).
Grandchildren Themes

A thematic analysis of the stories submitted by children and young adults was
also conducted. The process was more diYcult here than for the grandparents and young adults stories since the children tended to be descriptive
rather than content-oriented in their writing. This supports Bambergs claim

386

RYA N E T A L .

(1987; as cited in Juncos-Rabadan, 1996, p. 681) that descriptiveness is an


early stage in childrens narrative development. The main themes that
emerged within the stories are as follows: appreciation of what grandparents
have done for them, family relationships, acknowledgment of losses in old
age, and regard for grandparents never known or passed away.
Appreciation for What Grandparents Have Done. One common
theme that emerged was that of the grandchilds appreciation for the support
and encouragement grandparents oVer them. For example, one grandchild
wrote that her grandfather was always there to support and to encourage . . .
[her] (Book I, p. 138). Similarly, in another example, one author wrote: I
want you to know that you have shaped my dreams for the future . . . I want
you to know how much you have inXuenced my life . . . you will always be
my hero (Book II, p. 267). It is clear from these quotations that grandparents
have a signiWcant impact on their grandchildrens lives.
One recurring idea that appeared throughout some of the stories was that
of appreciating grandparents for passing on knowledge, skills and values. It
could be inferred that grandchildren may perceive grandparents as undertaking the role of teacher, and see themselves as undertaking the role of
student or listener. For example, one grandchild wrote, we both like old
planes. A lot of what I know comes from Grandpa telling me facts and stories
about World War II planes. Grandpa got me interested in planes (Book II,
p. 258). The grandchild in this example acknowledges the inXuence the
grandfather has played in his developing interest in airplanes. This common
interest in planes may serve to strengthen the grandparent-grandchild relationship as they may share stories with one another and learn from each other.
A second example of the idea of grandparent as teacher is evident when a
grandchild writes about her grandmother, She taught me how to share, how
to cook and many other things (Book II, p. 233).
Another common role that grandchildren often attributed to their grandparents was that of providing a sense of fun and friendship. Examples of this
idea can be seen in the following quotations:
I decided to write about my Grandma. She was really cool. She loved to dance
. . . Her favorite place to dance was on the coVee table (Book I, p. 116)
Good to me/Really funny . . . Never yells . . . Make me laugh/Adores me (Book
I, p. 118)
I have learned that everyone has a story to tell, all you have to do is take time
to listen and care . . . Thank you for not only being my Gran, but my friend as
well (Book II, p. 248)

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

387

One example from a university-aged grandchild who also saw her grandparent in a fun-loving way was described in a story. She writes, This is perhaps one of the best qualities of a relationship with a grandmother; namely
the absence of the need to discipline (Book I, p. 127). It is clear from these
examples that many grandchildren associate their grandparents with fun
and friendship. Perhaps this fun-seeking/friendship role has contributed to
the meaningful relationship that often develops between grandparents and
grandchildren. SpeciWcally, some grandchildren (as the university-aged grandchild points out) may recognize that grandparents and grandchildren can love
one another in a similar manner that a parent loves a child but without the
need to discipline, thereby contributing to the special relationship often shared
between the two generations (see Norris et al., this volume, for a further discussion of the relationship-building role of intergenerational narrative).
A second theme that emerged in some of the
grandchildrens stories related to communicating the important role that
grandparents play within the family unit. Examples include the following:
Family Relationships.

Dont leave me here, all by myself, I love you too much, you know everyone
needs you and myself.
You cant go, well all be left in sorrow. (Book I, p. 101)
She is the center of our family, the glue that keeps us all together and our moral
leader . . . I do not know what would happen to our family if we ever lost her.
(Book II, p. 303)

In these examples, the grandchild is emphasizing the signiWcant inXuence


that grandparents have within the family. Based on these quotations it would
seem that the grandchildren see their grandparents as playing a central role in
keeping the family unit together. Since grandparents also interpret one of
their roles as being family oriented (Nussbaum & Bettini, 1994), it is clear
that this message is being communicated to the grandchildren.
Some grandchildren recognized that their grandparents had helped provide them with a sense of identity and family history. This act of providing
their grandchildren with a sense of who they are is a role that is consistent
with past Wndings (see Kornhaber, 1996). In a letter addressed to her now
deceased grandfather, the author explains the relief she feels at knowing where
she has come from. She writes, What matters now to me is that I know who
you are and therefore to some extent who I am. I have a more complete image
of myself and I like it (Book I, p. 143). This quotation exempliWes the inXuence that grandparents can have on their grandchildrens lives. Knowing

388

RYA N E T A L .

about the grandparent has helped this grandchild gain an understanding of


who she is and of her familys past. Similarly, one of the younger childrens
stories reads:
I wanted to write about my grandfather because I didnt know him and I
wanted to know a little about him. I learned that even though my cousins and
I didnt know him, we all have a piece of him in our own diVerent way and
thats better than any gift from a store! (Book II, p. 223)

In this example it is clear that through story writing, the grandchild has
beneWtted by the opportunity to learn about her grandfather, perhaps by
asking other family members questions about him. By doing so, she has
gained a sense of identity and connectedness to her grandfather as she is able
to identify similarities between herself and her grandparent despite not
knowing him personally. In addition to the connection the grandchild has
made with her grandfather, she also may have inspired stories about him
from other family members which has fostered a connection with the family as a whole.
Acknowledgment of Losses in Old Age. While research has suggested that grandchildren interpret the grandparents role as one in which
they provide advice to the young (Kornhaber, 1996), some of the universityaged grandchildren oVered advice and support to their grandparents. Generally, this occurred because either the grandparent was ill or had lost his or her
spouse. It is important to acknowledge that the grandparent/grandchild relationship is generally characterized by a reciprocal interaction, and therefore,
providing advice is an act that can be performed by both generations (Norris
& Tindale, 1994). Each generation holds the potential of learning and beneWtting from one another. For example, one author points out some of the positive experiences that can emerge as one ages by writing qualities associated
with the letters in the words Growing Old: I wish you would Wnd some
positive changes that come with getting older . . . G is for the experience of
becoming a grandparent, R is for those that have earned our respect . . . W is
for the wisdom acquired over the years (Book I, p.157). Another example in
which the grandchild tries to empathize with the grandparent occurs when
one grandchild writes, I know you are frustrated, but the process of aging is
one that is confusing to everyone . . . I understand you have been through a
lot of tough times during your life (Book I, p. 138). Regardless of whether it
is the grandparent or the grandchild who is oVering the advice or support, the
intentions seem to be well-meaning. SpeciWcally, each generation, through
writing, is attempting to express their concern for one another. In each case,

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

389

story writing is an attempt to provide the other generation with support,


guidance, and encouragement.
Regard for Grandparents Never Known or Passed Away. Throughout many of the stories, grandchildren expressed their feelings about grandparents who have passed away or who were never known. One universityaged grandchild has come to the realization that she does not believe [that]
people realize how much an inXuence grandparents can be, but until they
dont have them anymore they will not appreciate the enormous contributions they make in their lives (Book I, p. 143). This quotation exempliWes an
appreciation of the extent to which grandparents aVect their childrens lives.
Other examples include: Youre why Im alive right now, But you died and I
ask how? . . . but . . . youll always be with me (Book I, p. 117) and Others
think youre gone/but I know you are still here (Book I, p. 140). These stories, that are written by the two diVerent grandchild age groups, demonstrate
how grandchildren may cope with the loss of a grandparent. SpeciWcally, the
grandchildren have come to the conclusion that despite the death of their
grandparent, the grandparent will continue to live on. Perhaps this belief that
the grandparent continues to live on even though others may not believe it
(as one grandchilds story points out), demonstrates the special connection
grandparents and grandchildren have with one another. Also, grandchildren
may feel comforted in knowing that grandparents will live on in their memories because of the stories that have been shared between them or from stories told about their grandparents by other family members. For example:
A lot of the things that I remember about my grandpa are stories that I hear
and not vivid memories (Book II, p. 279)
[T]he only things I know about Grandpa are the stories his children tell about
him . . . Often when we go to visit Grandma, her sons and daughters stand
around the kitchen telling stories about the old days. (Book II, p. 303)

In these two examples, the importance of telling stories is evident. Not


only can stories connect grandparents and grandchildren in present-day life,
but other family members can provide grandchildren with an opportunity to
connect with grandparents they might not have known by sharing stories
about them with the grandchildren. Other examples in which grandparents
are associated with stories include:
My grandpa likes to tell stories of when he was a kid and when he was working
in the navy. (Book II, p. 234)

390

RYA N E T A L .

They tell you stories/While you fall asleep with them hugging you tight. (Book
II, p. 250)

This association between grandparents and stories is seen often in the ways
the grandchildren describe their grandparents as storytellers. Sharing the stories is one way that each generation can relate to one another, and reinforces
the grandchildrens perception that their memories of the grandparent will
live on. Perhaps the grandparents stories serve as memories of the grandparent to the grandchild that can be kept and shared even after grandparents
pass away.
Some of the younger grandchildren expressed their feelings regarding the
absence of grandparents. One story illustrates how the lack of a relationship
with grandparents can aVect a grandchild: As a child, I remember feeling a
void created by the absence of an extended family . . . a grandparent with
whom I could have contact . . . the geographical distance between us prevented the formation of an emotional closeness (Book I, p. 127). In this
example, the sadness that the grandchild feels at not knowing her grandparent is evident. On the other hand, one young grandchild wrote: Doesnt it
feel good knowing that they are always there? Whether they are next door or
miles away, they are always there for you (Book II, p. 235). In this example,
the grandchild comments on the dependable relationship that grandparents
and grandchildren can have with one another despite geographical distance.
It is clear that the nature and quality of the grandparent-grandchild relationship can vary from family to family. However, it seems that while the grandparent-grandchild relationship can vary, the stories in this study commonly
reXected the valuable inXuence that grandparents can have in their grandchildrens lives.
Benefits of Story Writing

The time-honored reason for writing letters to family members has been to
overcome geographical distances separating authors and recipients. Although
the authors in our project took this purpose for granted, grandparents and
occasionally grandchildren did explicitly identify within their stories numerous beneWts of exchanging written stories and letters (see Table 16.1). Some
grandparents explicitly stated that the purpose of their stories was to preserve
or pass down a legacy. Writing is an eVective medium for preserving legacies
because it is less likely that the story will be misconstrued or forgotten. Knowing that the legacy will continue to be passed on may serve to strengthen family relationships, as each generation understands and continues to pass on

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

391

TABLE 16.1
BeneWts of Story Writing
Type

Evidence from Stories

Overcome Geographical Distance


[Implicit acceptance of time-honored role of letter writing]
Legacy
I want you to know this [importance of Prayer] since you are
now at the age that I was when my Mother left this legacy to me
(Book I, p. 74).
I want to be faithful to the legacy that was passed on to me,
and I now pass on to you, which is your rightful heritage
(Book II, p. 132).
Create New Connections I can appreciate the confusion you feel about your future . . .
Although more than Wfty years separate me from a situation
similar to yours, I can remember the feelings, if not all the
details, that accompanied my path to independence from family
life (Book I; p. 79 ) (attempts to identify with the grandchild
which may lead to discussion as to how the grandparent reacted
to similar situations currently being faced by the grandchild.)
You decide when my grandchild is old enough for my letter
(Written to the unborn grandchilds parents; Book II, p. 32).
Express Unsaid Feelings
. . . feel that writing to each other has made us closer because I
can write things to you that are hard to say in person. You make
me feel special the way only you can (Book I, p. 157).
The hardest part of dealing with your disease is that you no
longer remember who I am. I guess that is why I am writing you
this letter . . . this is the only way I can tell you how much I love
you (Book I, p. 138).
Future Opportunities
I have quite a few [stories] compiled in a loose-leaf binder. Ill
to Converse
let you read them sometime, if you want to (Book I, p. 85).
I would like you to think about this letter, and I will ask you
later what you think of what Ive said (Book I, p. 10).
Opportunity to
Your tenth birthday is almost here and it is a special milestone
Express Self
for us all and I think this is a good time to talk to you about
words (Book I, p. 10)
I wont go into detail about what took place when. . . . Ill let
my story speak for itself (Book II, p. 20).
Surpass Time
(A letter written to be given to a grandchild in ten years when he
is old enough to understand): It must be hard for you to accept
the fact that the Grandpa, whom you loved and had fun with,
who read to you and played games and catch with you, has
disappeared into an old man in a wheelchair who has diYculty
remembering any one (Book I, p. 54).
To my yet unborn grandchildren who will someday face the
world with all its challenges (Book I, p. 58).

392

RYA N E T A L .

family history. Story writing also serves as a means to create new connections
and strengthen existing ones between the generations (Norris et al., this volume; Pratt & Fiese, this volume). For the participants in this study, writing
provided the opportunity to express thoughts or feelings that might otherwise
have been left unsaid. For some, writing may be a more comfortable form of
communication, or may be perceived as the only means to convey ones message or have ones message heard by the receiver. Being able to express oneself can also have therapeutic value (Schuster, 1998). As well, story writing
might lead to future opportunities for the writer and the reader to converse.
For example, some stories pointed out a common interest between the generations; others created opportunities for the reader to take an active role in the
relationship, as the story posed questions or invited later interaction based on
the story. Finally, some grandparents transcended time in writing for the
future to unborn, or very young grandchildren; some grandchildren wrote in
memory of grandparents (sometimes never known).
Summary

Writing oVers grandparents and grandchildren the opportunity to express


themselves, as well as to establish a link with the other generation. Nussbaum
and Bettini (1994) found that sharing stories in their study was primarily
unidirectional from grandparent to grandchild (p. 78). In our study, however, both groups succeeded in connecting across the generations. The grandparents stories focused on the themes of history, family, advice, and life story,
while the grandchildrens stories expressed appreciation, family, acknowledgment of age-related losses, and regard for absent grandparents. Intergenerational writing can strengthen the grandparent-grandchild relationship by
supplementing face-to-face communication and by overcoming obstacles of
geography and time.
GENERAL DISCUSSION

Intergenerational Connections
and Life Span Development

Intergenerational communication through writing enabled grandparents to


pass on the lessons learned through their life experiences. Family stories serve
to foster development and to regulate behavior and aVect (Gatz & Zarit,
1999; McAdams et al., 1997; Pratt & Fiese, this volume). Through storywriting, grandparents were able to strive toward two important developmen-

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

393

tal life stage goals, those of generativity and wisdom (Erikson & Erikson,
1998). Conveying aspects of ones life story to a grandchild directs an older
persons attention to the generative aspects of ones life and thereby strengthens a sense of contribution and connection with contemporary society. Pasupathi (2001) argues for the beneWts of telling ones life story for diVerent
audiences and the role of the story recipient in shaping the sense of memory
and self. Sharing life stories of who we are is one of the key strategies outlined
by Kenyon (2002) for expressing ordinary wisdom; both teller and recipient
grow from such expressions.
Young grandchildren reveal in their stories concerns with reliable and
trusting relationships, while older grandchildren demonstrate interest in the
identity issues of adolescence and early adulthood (Erikson & Erikson,1998).
Committing their thoughts and concerns to paper and sharing them with
grandparents may also facilitate psychosocial development in children moving from one life stage to another. As well, the grandparents own identity can
be strengthened by the written oVerings of appreciation for the ways in which
they have made a diVerence in their grandchildrens lives.
On a broader level, we would argue that fostering the grandparent-grandchild relationship through the exchange of letters and stories can contribute
to improving understanding of aging issues in general. Many scholars have
acknowledged the central role of relationships with grandparents in the development of positive aging attitudes (Kornhaber, 1996; Williams & Nussbaum,
2001). Improving this key intergenerational relationship can enhance intergenerational communication beyond the family for both young and old (Ryan,
Meredith, MacLean, & Orange, 1995). The following story by a 9-year-old
grandchild exempliWes this learning:
My grandparents are wonderful. I have two grandmas and one grandpa. So
three, but I did have four. I had one more grandpa. His name was Russel. He
died when I was Wve. All I remember is that he used to call me his little Pixy
Girl. I know he loved me just like I loved him. I love all my grandparents. My
dads mom Grams helps me very much. Shes the one that taught me how to
hold a fork and knife. Then theres my dads dad. He is very nice, old, but wise
and loving. You cant forget my moms mom! She is very smart, old, but young
in a way. I do not mind what they look like. I know I will always love them, its
just the way life goes. (Book II, p. 238)

Value of Intergenerational Writing

As compared to storytelling, story writing oVers some key advantages. Sharing stories beyond the face-to-face situation extends the range of strategies for

394

RYA N E T A L .

fostering the grandparent-grandchild relationship, which may be undermined in contemporary society by waning interest in traditions and heritage
and by a fascination with what is new and modern. Reliance on the telephone
for social connections across geographic distances emphasizes superWcial communication as compared to traditional letter writing. The increasing availability of e-mail to all generations opens the way for a resurgence of intergenerational communication through the printed word both the quick and
spontaneous and the longer, more reXective message (Harwood, 2000). In
cases where the parents are divorced, the written mode may be especially useful to grandparents and grandchildren because this type of communication
relies much less on the parents for the arrangement of face-to-face meetings
(Williams & Nussbaum, 2001).
The printed word can overcome the limitations of geography and time.
As well, older adults with hearing impairments or other diYculties in oral
communication can be expected to enjoy a special advantage in developing
a writing relationship with grandchildren. In our study, participants wrote
to family members far away or who lived only in their minds. Recorded
family stories are important assets within families because of the changing
interests associated with life span development. All too often, by the time
we want to hear the stories, the tellers are no longer available to us. In
addition, the writing of stories is a work of art, an accomplishment which
contributes to an older persons sense of remaining active and productive
and which fosters a young persons burgeoning sense of competence and
participation in the world into which they are growing (Koch, 1977; Schuster, 1998). Moreover, Schuster (1998) underscored the way in which recognition beyond the family for older persons writings transformed relationships within the family.
Facilitating Story Writing

The purpose of making our two collections of intergenerational stories available to the public is to inspire young and old with the feasibility and potential of exchanging stories with younger and older members of their own families. Grandparents might consider writing their life stories (memoirs) for the
family in a series of short texts, sent to individual recipients or to all family
members over a period of time. This option not only seems more manageable
to a number of potential authors, but also can create a more receptive and
responsive audience. Directly involving grandchildren in the preparation of a
recorded family/life story can also enrich intergenerational connections. Likewise, grandchildren might be encouraged to consider their correspondence

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

395

with a grandparent in terms of a series of letters/stories that might build into


a larger work.
It is also important to consider facilitating the writing of stories for older
adults who cannot undertake this task on their own. Many communities oVer
courses on memoir writing, and healthy seniors often form mutual support
groups to encourage each other in this endeavor. Koch (1977), Schuster
(1998), and John (1992) have shown the value of assisting nursing home residents to write their stories or to create poems. We have begun to explore the
merit of writing down aspects of the life story of individuals with dementia
to foster conversational remembering and to help caregiving staV become
acquainted with them (Hagens, Beaman, & Ryan, 2003; Ryan, Schindel
Martin, & Beaman, in press; Thorsheim & Roberts, 2000). Older adults with
visual impairment would require some assistance to put their stories into
writing, either through transcriptions of their tape recordings or accessible
computer hardware/software. The written mode oVers a special advantage for
grandparents whose grandchildren no longer speak the family tongue, as
illustrated in The Bonesetters Daughter (Tan, 2001) by the Wctional account of
a translator being hired to make an older persons memoirs accessible to
younger family members.
Future Research and Conclusion

Future research concerning individual diVerences in themes would be of interest, with attention to the role of age and gender among both grandparents
and grandchildren, either as authors or as recipients (see Nussbaum & Bettini,
1994; Williams & Nussbaum, 2001). It should be remembered that the grandparents and grandchildren involved in our project were predominantly female, perhaps inXuencing the nature of our Wndings; men are more likely to
write about external things, while women are more likely to be personal and
write about internal states (Ray, 2000, p. 78). In addition, our participants,
particularly the grandparents, were highly selected volunteers in keeping with
our goal to analyze eVective writing samples. To complement our procedure,
greater variation in quality and content perhaps could be observed by collecting writing samples in a more controlled setting. Pratt and Norris (1999), for
example, reported on the use of written narrative as a means of exploring a
wide variety of themes in the moral and social reasoning of older adults. It
would also be particularly valuable to recruit grandparent-grandchild pairs for
a study in which they would write for each other over a period of time. With
such a longitudinal design, it would be possible to track the development of
themes across each pair over the evolution of their correspondence.

396

RYA N E T A L .

We conclude in the words of a grandchild author who demonstrates the


value of storywriting between the generations:
Memories are neatly stored and cherished;
Then retrieved when apart
To re-live the special moments.
This bond between grandparent and grandchild
Forever sealed in love. (Book I, p. 9)

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The authors express their appreciation for partial support for this research
by Grant No. 410-2000-1358 from the Social Sciences and Humanities
Research Council of Canada. We also gratefully acknowledge the assistance of
Gail Elliot, Alan Bishop, Katie Allen, Miranda Beamer, Marie Savundranayagam, and Amanda Beaman.

REFERENCES
Adams-Price, C. (1998). Aging, writing, and creativity. In C. Adams-Price (Ed.), Creativity and
successful aging (pp. 269287). New York: Springer.
Brussoni, M. J., & Boon, S. D. (1998). Grandparental impact in young adults relationships
with their closest grandparents: The role of relationship strength and emotional closeness.
International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 46, 267286.
Erikson, E. H., & Erikson, J. M. (1998). Life cycle completed. New York: W. W. Norton.
Gatz, M., & Zarit, S. H. (1999). A good old age: Paradox or possibility? In V. L. Bengtson &
K. W. Schaie (Eds.), Handbook of theories of aging (pp. 396416). New York: Springer Publishing.
Giarrusso, R., Feng, D., Silverstein, M., & Bengtson, V. L. (2001). Grandparent-adult grandchild aVection and consensus: Cross-generational and cross-ethnic comparisons. Journal of
Family Issues, 22, 456477.
Giarrusso, R., Silverstein, M., & Bengtson, V. L. (1996). Family complexity and the grandparent role. Generations: Journal of the American Society on Aging, 20(1), 1723.
Hagens, C., Beaman, A., & Ryan, E. B. (in press). Reminiscing, poetry writing, and remembering boxes: Personhood-centered communication with cognitively impaired older adults.
Activities, Adaptation, and Aging.
Harwood, J. (2000). Communication media use in the grandparent-grandchild relationship.
Journal of Communication, 50(4), 5678.
Harwood, J., & Lin, M.-C. (2000). AYliation, pride, exchange, and distance in grandparents
accounts of relationships with their college-aged grandchildren. Journal of Communication,
50(3), 3147.

16.

I N T E RG E N E R AT I O N A L C O M M U N I C AT I O N

397

John, M. T. (Ed.). (1992). Story writing in a nursing home: A patchwork of memories. Binghamton, NY: Haworth Press.
Juncos-Rabadan, O. (1996). Narrative speech in the elderly: EVects of age and education on
telling stories. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 19, 669685.
Kalliopuska, M. (1994). Relations of retired people and their grandchildren. Psychological
Reports, 75, 10831088.
Kennedy, G. E. (1990). College students expectations of grandparent and grandchild role
behaviors. The Gerontologist, 30, 4348.
Kenyon, G. M. (1996). The meaning/value of personal storytelling. In J. Birren, G. Kenyon,
J. Ruth, J. Schroots, & T. Svensson (Eds.), Aging and biography: Explorations in adult development (pp. 2537). New York: Springer Publishing Company.
Kenyon, G. M. (2002). Guided autobiography: In search of ordinary wisdom. In G. E. Rowles
& N. E. Schoenberg (Eds.), Qualitative gerontology: A contemporary perspective (2nd ed., pp.
3750). New York: Springer.
Kivnick, H. Q. (1983). Dimensions of grandparenthood meaning: Deductive conceptualization and empirical derivation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 44, 10561068.
Koch, K. (1977). I never told anybody: Teaching poetry writing in a nursing home. New York:
Random House.
Kornhaber, A. (1996). Contemporary grandparenting. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Luborsky, M. R. (1994). The identiWcation and analysis of themes and patterns. In J. F.
Gubrium & A. Sankar (Eds.), Qualitative methods in aging research (pp. 189210). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Mead, M. (1972). Blackberry winter: My earlier years. New York: William Morrow & Company.
McAdams, D., Diamond, A., St. Aubin, E., & MansWeld, E. (1997). Stories of commitment:
The psychosocial construction of generative lives. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 72, 678694.
McAdoo, H. P., & McWright, L. A. (1994). The roles of grandparents: The use of proverbs in
value transmission. Activities, Adaptations and Aging, 19, 2738.
McKay, V., & Caverly, S. (1995). Relationships in later life: The nature of inter- and intragenerational ties among grandparents, grandchildren, and adult siblings. In J. Nussbaum &
J. Coupland (Eds.), Handbook of communication and aging research (pp. 207226). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Mergler, N., & Goldstein, M. (1983). Why are there old peopleSenescence as biological
and cultural preparedness for the transmission of information. Human Development, 26,
7290.
Norris, J. E., Pratt, M. W., & Kuiack, S. (in press). Parent-child relations in adulthood: An
intergenerational family systems perspective. In L. Kucznyski (Ed.), Handbook of dynamics
in parent-child relations. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Norris, J. E., & Tindale, J. A. (1994). Among generations: The cycle of adult relationships. San
Francisco: Freeman.
Nussbaum, J., & Bettini, L. (1994). Shared stories of the grandparent-grandchild relationship.
International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 39, 6780.
Pasupathi, M. (2001). The social construction of the personal past and its implications for
adult development. Psychological Bulletin, 127, 651672.
Pratt, M. W., & Norris, J. E. (1999). Moral development in maturity: Life-span perspectives

398

RYA N E T A L .

on the processes of successful aging. In T. M. Hess & F. Blanchard-Fields (Eds.), Social cognition and aging (pp. 291317). San Diego, CA: Academic Press.
Pratt, M. W., & Robins, S. (1991). Thats the way it was: Age diVerences in the structure and
quality of adults personal narratives. Discourse Processes, 14, 7385.
Ray, R. E. (2000). Beyond nostalgia: Aging and life story writing. Charlottesville: University
Press of Virginia.
Roberto, K. A., Allen, K. R., & Blieszner, R. (2001). Grandfathers perceptions and expectations of relationships with their adult grandchildren. Journal of Family Issues, 22, 407426.
Roberto, K. A., & Skoglund, R. R. (1996). Interactions with grandparents and great-grandparents: A comparison of activities, inXuences, and relationships. International Journal of
Aging and Human Development, 43, 107117.
Ryan, E. B., Elliot, G. M., & Anas, A. P. (Eds.). (2000). Exchanges between us: More intergenerational connections. Hamilton, ON: McMaster Centre for Gerontological Studies.
Ryan, E. B., Elliot, G. M., & Meredith, S. D. (Eds.). (1999). From me to you: Intergenerational connections through storytelling. Hamilton, ON: McMaster Centre for Gerontological
Studies.
Ryan, E. B., Meredith, S. D., MacLean, M. J., & Orange, J. B. (1995). Changing the way we
talk with elders: Promoting health using the communication enhancement model. International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 41, 89107.
Ryan, E. B., Schindel Martin, L., & Beaman, A. (in press). Communication strategies to promote spiritual well-being among people with dementia. In A. Meier, P. VanKatwyk, &
T. S. J. OConnor (Eds.), Spirituality, health and pastoral counselling. Waterloo: Wilfrid
Laurier University Press.
Schuster, E. (1998). A community bound by words: ReXections on a nursing home writing
group. Journal of Aging Studies, 12, 137147.
Silverstein, M., Giarrusso, R., & Bengtson, V. L. (1998). Intergenerational solidarity and the
grandparent role. In M. E. Szinovacz (Ed.), Handbook on grandparenthood (pp. 144158).
Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.
Strom, R. D., Strom, S. K., Wang, C. M., Shen, Y. L., Griswold, D., Chan, H. S., & Yang,
C. Y. (1999). Grandparents in the United States and the Republic of China: A comparison
of generations and cultures. International Journal of Aging and Human Development, 49,
279317.
Szinovacz, M. E. (Ed.). (1998). Handbook on grandparenthood. Westport, CT: Greenwood.
Tan, A. (2001). The bonesetters daughter. New York: Ballantine.
Thorsheim, H., & Roberts, B. (2000). I REMEMBER WHEN . . . Activity ideas to help people
reminisce. Forest Knolls, CA: Elder Books.
Tomlin, A. M. (1998). Grandparents inXuences on grandchildren. In M. E. Szinovacz (Ed.),
Handbook of grandparenthood (pp. 159170). Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.
Williams, A., & Nussbaum, J. F. (2001). Intergenerational communication across the life span.
Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

PA R T V I

Conclusions
and Future Directions

17
Metaphors and Meanings
of Family Stories: Integrating
Life Course and Systems Perspectives
on Narrative
Barbara H. Fiese
Syracuse University

Michael W. Pratt
Wilfrid Laurier University
Wherever a story comes from, whether it is a familiar myth or a private memory, the retelling exemplifies the making of a connection
from one pattern to another. . . . Our species thinks in metaphors and
learns through stories.
Mary Catherine Bateson, 1994, p. 11

Taken together, the chapters in this book weave a tale of connecting patterns
of family inXuence across the life span. And a complex tale it is indeed. Family stories provide messages of expected conduct, lessons learned, and relationship formation. The thematic content of these stories covers a wide range
of common experiences, such as visits to Grandma, what to do when rules are
broken, how to repair hurt feelings, and responding to peer pressure. In this
regard, the contents of family stories serve as metaphors of the challenges
faced by families in raising children, becoming partners, and growing old.
Family stories extend beyond the messages relayed, however. The act of engaging others in the storytelling process is a context in which culture is conveyed and cognitive development supported.
In this Wnal chapter, we structure our summary of the issues raised by these
excellent contributions around two key questions: What can family stories
tell us about development? What can narratives tell us about families? In part
401

402

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

purposely structured by the selection of chapters for this book, we present a


life-span perspective on how this collection of stories reXects a developmental
sequence revolving around the content and medium through which stories
are conveyed and the interplay between coherence and the depiction of
meaning and relationships.

WHAT CAN FAMILY STORIES TELL US


ABOUT DEVELOPMENT?

Childhood Stories: Reminiscence


and Everyday Relationships

The stories told between parents and young children typically involve retellings of shared experiences. The early construction of family stories is
based, in part, on a recounting of memories that sets the stage, much later in
adolescence, for creating meaningful life stories (McAdams, 2001). Peterson
and McCabe (this volume) describe classic prototypes of what makes a good
story. Much like a good piece of music, there is a building up of tension with
a crescendo, followed sometimes by a sweet ending. Indeed, the rhythm of
story telling is no doubt established prior to the time the child can become an
active participant in recalling memories. The rising tone and quality of mothers speech to young infants parallels the rise and fall of classic storylines
(Stern, 2002).
Although engaging the child in recounting personal memories may be a
universal experience, there are important variations by parent style and culture. Peterson and McCabe (this volume) demonstrate that the degree to
which families are comfortable with storytelling varies considerably and that
this variability is directly related to the childs developing narrative competence. Children who are exposed to narrative environments rich in elaborative details are more likely to become good storytellers, in comparison to
peers whose parents tend to switch topics rather than encourage elaboration.
Fivush and colleagues (this volume) also detail diVerences in parent and family narrative style that may be related not only to the childs linguistic competence, but also to his or her developing emotional resilience.
When we consider how children are enculturated into storytelling partnerships, cultural styles of engagement become even more prominent. Fung,
Miller, and Lin (this volume) point to how the role of listener is often downplayed or ignored in Western cultures. Yet, in Confucian cultures, as studied

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

403

by Fung, Miller, and Lin (this volume) and Wang (this volume), to be a good
storyteller means that you must Wrst be a good listener.
There are several meanings associated with these childhood reminiscence
processes. First, relationships are built through these everyday exchanges that
are regulated in part by gender and culture (e.g., Wang, this volume). Parents
in more individualistic Western cultures, according to Wang, foster diVerent
kinds of reminiscence processes and content, highlighting the autonomous
individual, than do parents in collectivistic, Confucian cultures, where the
childs network of relations with others is emphasized instead. The types of
stories told to daughters and sons may also diVer under some circumstances.
Inherent in the recollection of everyday memories is the opportunity for
problem solving and learning the lessons of growing up. Much of the backand-forth exchanges reported in these Wrst few chapters of the book include
engaging children around such themes as How did you feel? and What
would you do next time? The metaphors of these stories fall along the lines
of how to experience as well as behave and act in the culture in which you
are raised.
Story coherence is somewhat of a background to the evolving partnerships
that are created through active storytelling. There is no doubt a strong cognitive and developmental component to this phase. Benson (1996) has demonstrated that although children can piece together the elements of story
structure (e.g., beginning, middle, and end) when as young as 4 years of age,
the ability to create a complex plot with intentions and resolution of inconsistencies is not fully developed until later. This does not preclude, however,
the possibility that exposure to coherent vs. incoherent accounts inXuences
younger children. ScaVolding eVects were mentioned throughout the early
chapters in this book. For example, Peterson and McCabe (this volume)
report that notions of causality are introduced by parents in conversations
5 months prior to childrens own use of causal statements in their recounts.
Fivush and colleagues (this volume) point out that there are individual diVerences in the ways in which parents and children enter into co-constructed
narrative exchanges. Families who build the narrative together may model
coherence through synthesizing ideas and taking into account diVerent perspectives.
On the other hand, narratives characterized by disharmonious interactions
disrupt the Xow of the narrative and may ultimately provide inconsistent
and incoherent models to their children. The developmental course of incoherence then may become cemented in attachment relationships between
parent and child, as described by Sher-Censor and Oppenheim (this volume).

404

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

Children who establish secure relationships during infancy are more likely to
organize their narratives in a way that supports resolution of conXicts in a
coherent manner. Thus, the foundation of a secure and responsive parentchild relationship may inXuence the degree to which children are able to
create coherent accounts of interpersonal relationships in their discourse.
Similarly, Robinson and Eltz (this volume) show how some patterns of parent
living arrangements and less functional caregiving in a vulnerable sample of
poor families can be predictive of more aggressive and dysfunctional narratives that young children display in their discussions about standard relationship situations. This chapter also hints at the important but under-studied
role that fathers may play in these families in shaping childrens social narrative resources.
Adolescence: Dialogues and Identity

During adolescence, the medium of family storytelling is centered on dialogues between adolescent and adults. Over time, the dialogue becomes more
internalized and lays the foundation for a personal life story. The content of
these stories reXects the personal challenges experienced by contemporary
adolescents, as well as adults investment in forewarning adolescents of potential dangers ahead. This process is clearly illustrated in the chapter presented
by Arnold and colleagues. The values and lessons expressed in family stories
need to percolate. Turning points in life stories become such through personal reXection and evaluation. An essential feature of this process is how the
earlier exchanges between parent and child become internally reconstructed
or owned by the adolescent over time. As was the case in parent-child reminiscences, there are individual diVerences in how parents and adolescents
engage in this process. Adolescents whose turning point episodes included
active interest on the part of parents, either through providing useful advice
or just being a sounding board, were more likely to internalize parental values. Adolescents, on the other hand, who felt their stories cut short by parents,
were more likely to author personal stories of disappointment and unresolved
tensions between parent and child. The parallels between these narrative processes and more traditional descriptions of parenting style are evident, and
were supported by the data. Adolescents whose stories showed that they experienced their parents as responsive and authoritative were better adjusted
4 years later than adolescents who experienced their parents as dictatorial and
unresponsive to their individual needs in the stories that they told.
Coherence is an essential regulating feature of this phase. The chapter presented by Dunbar and Grotevant (this volume) is a complex picture of how

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

405

variability in coherence deWnes identity types. Adolescents who are able to


synthesize diVerent elements of their life into a coherent story have a more
integrated sense of self. It is interesting to note that the story need not be
completely resolved and in fact can be a work in progress. The essential feature is the process of pulling together and considering the diVerent elements
of the story to construct a coherent whole. Adolescents who create a short
story, summarizing elements without considering diVerent perspectives, have
missed an opportunity to examine their lives and present a picture of an unexamined identity. As pointed out by Dunbar and Grotevant, there are parallels
between the relative coherence of adolescent stories and more traditional
measures of adolescent identity (Marcia, Waterman, Matteson, Archer, &
Orlofsky, 1993). However, the metaphors are diVerent. From a narrative perspective, the metaphors of adolescent identity revolve not around what they
did, as much as how they have made sense of their experiences. In this regard,
adolescent identity is considered an active process of digesting and interpreting experiences that take into account parent voice, peer inXuences, aVect,
and the relation among domains of identity. Putting together a life story is
work! Accordingly, an adolescents story of identity may be complex, multifaceted, and well integrated, or disjointed, one-sided, and disconnected.
The importance of perspective taking and building a repertoire of relationship experiences is evident in the work on parents stories of their earlier
drug involvement presented by Thorne and colleagues. The use of vignettes
of possible storied scenarios presented the opportunity to consider hypothetical alternatives in this charged real-life situation, asking the question, What
if this message were relayed to you? The fact that the stories involved an
illegal (but believable) activity highlights the sensitive nature of topics exchanged between parents and children. In this example, adolescents are asked
to consider their parents engaging in activities that they have been warned
against themselves. Whereas during childhood, personal transgressions focus
on the childs behavior, during adolescence there is a greater opportunity to
examine transgressions of the older generation. Attention to how these stories
could be potentially co-constructed in real dialogues within the family (as in
the case of childhood reminiscences) may shed further light on whether the
lesson is learned or rejected. Trust and security in the adolescent-parent relationship may very well aVect how these revelations of personal transgressions
are received.
The Thorne et al. chapter is especially interesting because it points up the
challenges of actually formulating family stories, what we have referred to
here as the practicing aspects of storytelling (e.g., Reiss, 1989). Some story
content may be problematic or dangerous for either the teller or the listener,

406

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

and may damage the participants if not presented appropriately, or even, perhaps, if presented at all. There is a need, in other words, to attune the story to
both the teller and the listener and to their relationship, and this matter may
become more salient in adolescence than childhood, when the listeners are all
the more ready to re-interpret the story through their own lenses. Stories
about parental transgressions such as drug use thus highlight the problematic
role of storytelling within the developing family context.
Adulthood: Relationship Histories

The section of the book dedicated to adults as partners and parents, and the
conveyance of family stories, centers largely around depicting close relationships. Many of these stories tend to be prosaic, reXecting everyday events and
routines within the family and the task of building intimate relationships
within the newly constituted family. Dickstein (this volume) describes how
the stories told about marriage reXect how adults value relationships and recognize their inXuence on other areas of family functioning. Although this
chapter is presented from an attachment perspective, there are clear overlaps
with Eriksons proposition that this is the period of intimacy versus isolation
(Erikson, 1950). Erikson proposes that during this period, adults seek mutual
intimate relationships that accommodate cycles of work, procreation, and
recreation.
Fiese and Bickham (this volume) report that the stories shared by parents
with their children include themes of work, being close to others, and how
families spend leisure time together. The meanings implicit in these stories
appear to include not only how to behave (as in the case of personal reminiscences), but also the importance of building relationships over time. The kinship ties identiWed in the Fiese and Bickham chapter highlight how, through
stories, children are exposed to genealogical as well as geographical references.
Through narratives, a scrapbook of family relationships is created that serves
as a reference for making sense of personal relationships. Implicit in Eriksons stage of intimacy is the notion that through creating close relationships,
we avoid self-absorption and isolation. Thus, family stories may be used to
convey what to expect in close relationships, how to value them as sources of
support, and to consider how being in a family insures membership in a
meaningful group. Not surprisingly, the next stage is directed toward how to
continue this process and invest in the next generation.
McAdams (this volume) eloquently describes how stories of generativity
include not only messages of suVering but also of human kindness. At the
core of these stories, there appears to be a Rousseau-like message that concern

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

407

for others is inherently human. This concern does not come without cost,
however. Oftentimes these messages are ones of suVering and sacriWce. Yet, at
the core is a message of human kindness and being able to rely on others in
times of need, as well as the capacity for redemption and growth that comes
out of these times of trial. In this regard, these tales of generativity extend the
attachment theme to include expectations that even outside of intimate relationships, within the wider social world, there is a common good and there
are expectations for satisfying relationships. It is greater use of this type of plot
that was found to distinguish more generative adult storytellers. Perhaps this
is good news, in that those who have a more optimistic and hopeful view of
the world may be the most avid message carriers to the next generation (e.g.,
Pratt, Norris, Arnold, & Filyer, 1999).
Coherence comes into play in two diVerent ways in this set of stories. First
is narrative coherence and the structure of the stories being told. Clearly, the
work reported by Dickstein (this volume) suggests that the manner in which
close relationships are described is linked to how family members interact
with each other. Similar to the results reported in childhood reminiscence
and the adolescent identity literature, stories that are well organized, resolve
contradictory information, and synthesize diVerent elements are related to
more positive relationships and functioning overall. The process of building a
coherent story of family relationships potentially serves as background to the
types of stories that are told and expectations for rewarding or disappointing
interactions.
The second type of coherence evident in this collection of stories is biographical, as pointed out by McAdams (this volume). Typically considered as
involving the synthesizing of experiences of ones own life in adolescence
(e.g., Habermas & Bluck, 2000), biographical coherence may also include
reXections on others experiences that are close to you. Dicksteins (this volume) assessment of marital attachment includes an analysis of whether the
stories of marital relationships include recognition that forming such relationships is an important aspect of the life story. Couples diVered in the
degree to which they viewed their relationship as a work in progress and
evolving over time. For some couples there was the clear recognition that
marriage is a journey involving intimacy and personal challenges. For others,
marriage is seen as something that just happened and you do your own
thing, perhaps in spite of the relationship. Fiese and Bickhams (this volume)
discussion of family stories includes an appreciation for how parental experiences may indirectly aVect the socialization of children along gendered lines,
and what it means to grow up as a boy or as a girl. Indeed, they found that the
role of other family members experiences in activities and rituals may be

408

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

more central in the stories of the family that are told by mothers to daughters,
perhaps one element in the process of socializing females as the kin-keepers
within the family system (Putney & Bengtson, 2001).
As well, the creation of biographical coherence happens in cultural context.
Fung, Miller, and Lin (this volume) remind us that the roles and domains
inherent in the storytelling process contribute to our biographical stance. In
Confucian cultures, a more central building block of biographical coherence
is being a good listener. Fung, Miller and Lin point out that the Chinese self
is deWned by relationships to others. It is ones role to consider not only the
path of ones own life but to consider it in relation to the journeys of others.
A part of this biographical stance appears to be resolving tensions between
strivings for autonomy and independence and responsiveness to others in
society. In this regard, Eriksons (1950) overarching framework comes into
play, as societies create the only condition in which human growth is possible (p. 277). In Western cultures, biographical coherence may be more likely
to include features such as acting on ones own, as described in the stories
collected by Fiese and Bickham, and as reported in the chapter by Wang (this
volume). The medium in which biographical coherence is created may vary
by culture as well as by individual diVerences in relationship formation.
Older Adults: Epochs and Family Preservation

The stories told and valued by older adults are often epochal in nature. By the
term epochal, we refer to the fact that embedded within such stories is an appreciation for the sweep of history, and for individuals and the familys place
in generational time. Ryan and colleagues (this volume) detail accounts where
historical events such as war are often background to stories of personal loss
and survival. The authors speculate that when grandparents use such historical frames in their family reminiscences, grandchildren may develop a greater
appreciation for history in general. Often, however, the accounts were not
necessarily related to the history of the world as much as they were tales of
family history. Grandparent stories were used as opportunities to introduce
grandchildren to relatives and events that preceded the birth of the grandchild. The authors cite one grandparent who considers his forebears achievements as a source of encouragement when faced with challenging situations.
One could speculate that some adolescents (given the need to process and
reXect over time on a sense of self ) may eventually take these stories of grandparents as part of their own personal history (e.g., Hilbers, 1997). In many respects, the stories of older adults provide tangible evidence of family legacies.

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

409

The drive to preserve family history and share advice is clearly evident in
the chapters by Ryan and colleagues, and by Norris, Kuiack, and Pratt (this
volume). One gets the sense that grandparents feel obliged to share their wisdom in the hopes that the younger generation will beneWt (and survive!).
There are important stylistic diVerences, however, that moderate the potential force of these stories. Norris and colleagues report that more generative
grandparents create more detailed and engaged stories about their grandchildren than do less generative grandparents. They suggest that generative
grandparents may enact their goals for the family more eVectively through
storytelling. Gould (this volume) also reports individual diVerences in older
adults styles of recounting personal experiences, similar to stylistic diVerences
noted in parent-child reminiscences. Overall, then, the stories of older adults
are used as opportunities for personal reXection and to deal with the question
of what ones life means for the next generation.
Surprisingly, there was less attention to the notion of coherence in the research reported here on the stories told by older adults. Gould attends to the
potential for memory loss in later life to aVect story content and structure.
However, the chapters by Ryan and colleagues, and by Norris and colleagues,
focus more on the content of stories told between generations. The focus
appears to be on connections and collaborations between generations rather
than on individual coherence and its implications. In this regard, the illocutionary force investigated so far seems aimed at drawing generations together
in the hopes that values are transmitted. Future research may attend to
whether the coherence of the narratives told by individual older adults is
related to generativity, ego integrity and eVective value transmission. Certainly previous research has indicated that more coherent life stories, as told
by older versus younger adults, may be better appreciated by readers and listeners (Kemper, 1992; Pratt & Robins, 1991).
Table 17.1 summarizes the ways
in which stories are told during diVerent periods across the life span and suggests something of their meanings. The narrative environment is rich with
opportunities to engage others in family stories. Building blocks of storytelling are evident in early childhood, with a focus on reminiscences and
recountings of shared experiences, largely guided by adult partners. This type
of storytelling sends the message that sharing everyday memories is a part of
relating to others and provides an opportunity for problem solving. This process of storytelling builds linguistic, cognitive, and social competence in the
developing child (e.g., McAdams, 2001).
Family Stories Across the Life Span.

410

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

TABLE 17.1
Elements of Family Stories Across the Life Span
Lifespan Period

Medium

Meaning

Metaphor

Coherence

Childhood

Reminiscence

Sharing everyday
memories is
relational

How do I learn
to behave?

Narrative
and social
competence

Adolescence

Dialogue

Synthesizing
diVerent
experiences lays
foundation for
coherence

Who am I?

Coherence of
personal identity

Adulthood

Prosaic

Relationship
histories

What do others
mean to me?

Coherence across
immediate
family
relationships

Older Adult

Epochal

Family
preservation

What does my
life mean to
others?

Continuity
across family
generations

During adolescence, the medium shifts to a more balanced dialogue, where


the adolescent is actively engaged in evaluating and perhaps changing parts of
the family story to Wt with his or her own evolving identity (see Table 17.1).
The everyday memories that came before must now be considered and integrated across multiple perspectives to create a coherent whole (e.g., McAdams,
2001). Adolescent identity develops through these processes, as highlighted
in the chapters by Arnold and colleagues, Dunbar and Grotevant, and
Thorne et al.
During adulthood there is a new level of social responsibility that is associated with family stories for new parents. Implicit in these stories are messages
of both socialization and relationship values. As conveyors of culture, adults as
parents must come to terms with the role of sending messages that are consistent (or perhaps deliberately inconsistent) with shared cultural and family values. These stories are commonly about everyday events, routines, and rituals
in the life of the immediate family, and thus we characterize them as prosaic
aspects of the broad tasks of family socialization (Table 17.1). Their larger
role, however, is to convey information and emotion about the web of relationships and meanings within the family context for the developing child.
Although the topic of the stories may appear relatively mundane, through
repetitive tellings there is the opportunity to transform the momentary practice to a symbolic representation of family experiences. Furthermore, such

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

411

storytelling may become less prosaic and more challenging as children grow
into adolescence, as demonstrated in the chapter by Thorne and colleagues.
Older adults extend this charge, and seize the opportunity to reXect on
the unique nature of their own family in the context of a broader historical
moment. Indeed, they may be the most time-conscious members of the family, and often have the strongest investment in preserving family history for
the next generations (Putney & Bengston, 2001). Bengtsons idea of generational stake stresses that the oldest generations have the most investment in
preserving family harmony and tend to emphasize this in their views and
activities. Our concept of the epochal nature of family stories for the oldest
generation is meant to stress this idea of family intergenerational process in
historical context (see Table 17.1).
As depicted in Table 17.1, then, this book is premised on the notion that
Eriksons (1950) framework of life-span development is a useful organizing
perspective for viewing the role of family stories across the individuals life
course. Early in life, the young child acquires both a competence in narrative
and a sense of social relationships through the medium of participation in
family reminiscence activities. As Fiese and Bickham (this volume) show,
parental story content even seems to vary somewhat in parallel with the stages
of development in the childs personality, as outlined by Erikson. In adolescence, the issues of identity are addressed by the construction of a sense of
coherence in the life story, with the family as a central context for this process
(e.g., McAdams, this volume, 2001). In adulthood, the sense of self enlarges
to encompass relationships with partners and others, and a concern with
socializing the next generation, following the Eriksonian framework, and
family stories reXect and illuminate these intimacy and generativity themes.
Finally, in late adulthood, a concern with the self s legacy is reXected in family
stories designed to pass on the family, its values and history across generational lines, perhaps as a way of coming to terms with the issues of ego integrity in the sense described by Erikson. As several of our chapters point out,
however, and as Erikson (1950) himself clearly recognized, these broad lifespan processes are situated within diverse cultural contexts that may shape
their expression diVerently.

WHAT CAN NARRATIVES TEACH US


ABOUT FAMILIES?

Our second topic reXects the fact that there are lessons to be learned about
families in general from these chapters on family stories. For one, the content

412

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

of these stories reinforces the importance of family interactions as a group. It


is thus noteworthy that in many instances the stories relayed were situated
within family routines and rituals. Fivush and colleagues (this volume) noted
that 78% of the positive events that were recalled were about family vacations
or holiday gatherings. Fiese and Bickham (this volume) found that close to
40% of the stories told by mothers made reference to family routines. Wang
(this volume) highlights the importance of everyday uses of memory and
their salience in social gatherings such as family dinners. Norris and colleagues (this volume) refer to the process of engaging grandparent and grandchildren in storytelling as a ritual which can connect current and past generations. We make note of these features for two reasons. First, the content of
family stories provides clues as to what it means to be a member of a family.
Second, it highlights how family stories include both practicing and representational components, a distinction we discussed in chapter 1.
A persistent challenge in studying family relationships and the construct of
family systems as described in chapter 1 is considering how whole family
process inXuences individuals, and how individuals contribute to whole family process (Cowan, 1999; Parke & ONeil, 1999). Part of the quandary may
be due to how we go about accessing family relationships. Family stories provide a unique opportunity to consider how individuals interpret whole family process as well as how family dynamics may inXuence individual members.
The recurring presence of routines and rituals in many of these stories speaks
to what families actually do together, reinforcing the importance of understanding the narrative ecology of family life (McAdams, this volume).
By deWnition, family routines and rituals involve multiple family members
and, in many instances, provide meaning to group activities (Fiese et al.,
2002). When people are asked to tell stories about family events, it is then
reasonable to expect that many of these stories will include descriptions of
repetitive patterns of family interaction, such as those found during meals,
vacations, and birthday celebrations. On the one hand, these settings may
include a cultural script that allows for an easier telling of such tales (Nelson,
1999). The predictability and scriptability of these interactions over time
may foster cognitive ease in recounting particular stories and events.
In addition to this role of cognitive facility, however, is the notion that
family routines and rituals involve a core interpretive component. Family
rituals are noted for aVective involvement, symbolic communication, and
endurance across generations (Fiese et al., 2002). When asked to reXect on
such family experiences, there is an essential interpretive component of what
it means to be a member of a family that may be revealed in the stories themselves. These meanings may be relatively unique to a particular family, as in

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

413

the case of the family legacies recounted by older adults, or they may be more
universal, as in the case of creating secure and trustworthy bonds between
parent and child in the service of attachment. The stories depicted and analyzed in the chapters in this volume, then, may provide a window into this
important meaning-making process that extends beyond dyadic relationships
to the wider family unit.
As described in our introductory chapter (Pratt & Fiese, this volume),
family process can be distinguished along the two intersecting dimensions of
family practices and family representations. The act of engaging family members in storytelling extends across the life span, with variations in elaborative
style, in how eagerly individuals take on the task, and in how emotion is
regulated in the telling. These stylistic features evident in storytelling are
oftentimes concordant with interactions observed outside of the speciWc narrative exchange (e.g., Dickstein, this volume; Fiese & Marjinsky, 1999; SherCensor and Oppenheim, this volume). Thus, there may be quite plausible
cross-situational consistency between behaviors observed in a narrative context, and those observed during everyday routine interactions.
Partly because of this, family stories can serve as a method for investigating
important dimensions of family life, as noted in chapter 1. This is so because
such stories may reveal consistencies in their tellings with practices within the
family, as well as across underlying representations of family models. In addition, coherence between narrative style and overall family style in practices
may aid in cementing the images and messages portrayed in the story. As
suggested in the introductory chapter, family stories are also important as a
medium for conveying key information between individual members, and
this role is inXuenced, perhaps interactively, both by stories practicing and
representing aspects. Finally, the act of storytelling may lead, or transact, with
the meaning or representational model of the family implicit in the story
told. Stories thus serve the key role of constructing meaning and a sense of
identity, both for the individual and for the wider family. Stories, as depicted
in these chapters, are thus all of these simultaneously method, medium,
and meaningand future research should continue to explore all of these
potential aspects of narrative within the family.
For example, when considering members representations of family life
and its meanings, it is clear that these are works in progress. Consistent with
Bowlbys (Bowlby, 1969) notion that repetitive interactions between caregiver
and child become internalized and re-evaluated over time, families create
working models of relationships that become integrated into the individuals
sense of self and belonging. An examination of the diVerent topics conveyed
in these chapters expands the realm of working models to include guides for

414

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

behavior in multiple domains. In addition to feelings of felt security and


reliance on others, family stories contribute to working models of moral
behavior, gender roles, emotion regulation, social orientation, and identity.
Thus, an examination of the topics of family stories can provide us with an
insiders view of a wide range of elements of family life.
As noted previously, the acts of telling stories, and the representations
inherent in them, do not operate in isolation. We consider that there is a
transactional process between these two key dimensions that evolves over time.
If we chart the life course of the stories conveyed in the chapters in this book,
as well as in Table 17.1, we note several features that support this contention.
During early childhood, adults create active partnerships with youngsters to
foster the act of storytelling. Although varying in style, these dyadic interactions also lay a template for considering the messages about family worlds
inherent in the story. Children who are encouraged to participate more fully
in such narratives may also themselves create more complex representations
of family life. During adolescence the opportunity to explore and consider
the multifaceted nature of relationships and personal meaning making appears to be advanced through the experience of responsive family interactions. Adult family members who are good listeners may encourage a more
fully explored identity in their adolescents. As parents, the act of telling stories is tempered within the context of who is listening, son or daughter, and
who is telling, mother or father. The messages received may then lead to
expectations for what is valued behavior for boys and girls within the family
and the wider culture. Finally, the storytelling activities between grandparents
and grandchildren as described in the Norris et al. and Ryan et al chapters,
illustrate how characteristics of each partner may interact and contribute to
the type of tale that is told, as well as to which aspects are attended in the representations that members construct.
In addition to these developmentally based aspects of the family as a system across the life course, much of the work in this book stresses the important feature that family processes are inherently mutual and interactive in
nature. We have come to understand this better within the context of recent
research on parent-child relationships; parents both inXuence and are inXuenced by their children (e.g., Bugenthal & Goodnow, 1998). In a parallel
sense, while much narrative research has concentrated so far on story telling,
story listening is just as fundamental a role, and one that is inherent in a systemic account of the familys use of narrative (e.g., Fung et al., this volume).
The audience shapes the tellers expression of tales, just as these tales may
inXuence the audience (e.g., adolescents role in eliciting various versions of
parents tales of their personal past; see Thorne et al., this volume). These

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

415

interactive models of narrative also parallel the sociocultural perspective on


cognitive and communicative development, in which all utterances are seen
as fundamentally dialogical in nature, part of an extended conversation between the voices of self and other (Wertsch, 1991). More work focused on
these interactive communicative processes within the family is clearly needed,
following on the important beginnings described in various chapters here.
In sum, family stories tell us about the ways in which the family system
operates, both through their practicing and representational dimensions.
Because these stories are often drawn from, and situated within, family-wide
rituals and organizational elements, they inevitably reXect and, in turn,
inXuence and conveyessential aspects of the systemic nature of the wider
family. A central message of this book, then, is that storytelling itself can
be one of these key rituals within the bounds of the family system, one that
fulWlls a range of functions across the life course of family members. Family
members tell and respond to and construct together, the stories that express
how they interact in their lives through time, as well as signaling how they
represent the underlying meaning of those lives in their sense of family worlds.

A NEW BEGINNING?

As developmental psychologists, we strongly believe that the present volume


very much must be seen as a work in progress. Although family stories have
no doubt been around as long as there have been families and the words to tell
them, they have only recently become the subject of scientiWc investigation.
The present collection of chapters, by a range of excellent scholars working
within this new area, is meant to convey a sense of the excitement and possibilities of such scientiWc narrative research. Hopefully, this collection also represents a beginning that is worthy of follow-up, raising essential questions
about what family stories may be able to tell us about both individual and
family development across the life course.
Indeed, there are many unanswered questions that need to be addressed in
future research. From a developmental perspective, the course of narrative
content across the life span has only begun to be charted, as described in
many of the chapters in this book, and continued work is needed here. However, it will be as important to begin to clarify the course of narrative competence and coherence across time as well. For example, are there transition
points in developing narrative coherence that may be opportunities to eVect
changes in personal development, as well as furthering our understanding
of how individuals respond to stressful situations (e.g., Pennebaker, 1997)?

416

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

From a family systems perspective, it will be interesting to investigate whether


the creation of a family story is relatively unique to each family, or whether
there are types of family stories that reXect diVerences in more general patterns of family style and functioning.
More generally, as illustrated in the chapters by Fung et al. and by Wang,
there are many important questions about how cultural diVerences may shape
and inform the content and process of family stories, questions that have only
begun to be considered in research to date. Are there cultural diVerences in
the content or coherence patterns of family stories? Only careful exploration
and theorizing can help us examine this. Similarly, the sociohistorical context
of family storytelling is also a topic that deserves to be addressed. For example, the rapid pace of technological change and development in modern societies might be seen as making some aspects of the family narrative transmission of skills and values from previous generations, as Ryan et al. explored in
their work in the present book, less compelling for younger generations. Do
adolescents watching Music Television Wnd Granddads stories about the war
a total bore? How, if at all, might such historical and cultural changes be
inXuencing the broader role of value transmission through the medium of
family narratives?
Finally, research to date has tended to focus more extensively on the positive role that family narratives may play across individual and family growth
and development. Yet it is undeniably the case that family as well as individual life narratives can be problematic and destructive as well, as McAdams
notes in his chapter in this volume. In the chapter by Thorne et al. on parent
stories of their drug use, for example, it is evident that certain kinds of information may be problematic to share within the context of parent-adolescent
relationships, and perhaps damaging to the parties and their relationships if
not formulated with care. More systematic attention to these negative aspects
of family stories and their actual enactment will be important in future work.
We also believe that future work on the applications of family narrative
research and theorizing is very important. At our request, the authors of the
present chapters generally provided brief commentaries about the applied
implications of their research. We found many of these discussions provocative and challenging, and we hope that considering these comments will
encourage readers and future researchers to pursue systematic work on this
topic. As in other areas of psychology and science more generally, we believe
that an ongoing dialogue of basic and applied research is needed to inform
our understanding of the role of family stories.
In closing, let us turn once again to Shakespeare, that inventor of the
human according to Bloom (1998). Yet this time we choose a negative exem-

17.

M E TA PH O R S A N D M E A N I N G S O F FA M I LY S TO R I E S

417

plar. How wrong indeed was Macbeth, in his bitter and despairing, though
perhaps understandable, soliloquy on his wifes death: Lifes but a walking
shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then
is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Instead, as the authors of the chapters in this book have shown,
the tales of family life, told both by the wise and the foolish, often prosaic,
can signify much about the processes and meaning of individual and family
development. We look forward to learning more in the future about how the
metaphors of daily personal experience, as revealed in stories shared, provide
meanings and rhythms to family life across time and generations.

REFERENCES
Bateson, M. C. (1994). Peripheral visions. New York: Harper.
Benson, M. S. (1996). Structure, conXict, and psychological causation in the Wctional narratives of 4- and 5-year olds. Merrill Palmer Quarterly, 42(2), 228247.
Bloom, H. (1998). Shakespeare: The invention of the human. New York: Riverhead Books.
Bowlby, J. (1969). Attachment and loss: Vol 1. Attachment. New York: Basic Books.
Bugenthal, D., & Goodnow, J. (1998). Socialization processes. In W. Damon (Gen. Ed.),
Handbook of child psychology, 5th ed. (Vol. 3, pp. 389462). New York: Wiley.
Cowan, P. A. (1999). What we talk about when we talk about families. In B. H. Fiese, A. J.
SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt, S. Dickstein, & D. Fravel (Eds.), The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative interaction, and relationship beliefs.
Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64, 163176. Malden, MA:
Blackwell.
Erikson, E. (1950). Childhood and society. New York: Norton.
Fiese, B. H., & Marjinsky, K. A. T. (1999). Dinnertime stories: Connecting relationship beliefs
and child behavior. In B. H. Fiese, A. J. SameroV, H. D. Grotevant, F. S. Wamboldt,
S. Dickstein, & D. Fravel (Eds.), The stories that families tell: Narrative coherence, narrative
interaction, and relationship beliefs. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 64(2, Serial No. 257, pp. 5268). Malden, MA: Blackwell.
Fiese, B. H., Tomcho, T., Douglas, M., Josephs, K., Poltrock, S., & Baker, T. (2002). Fifty
years of research on naturally occuring rituals: Cause for celebration? Journal of Family Psychology, 16, 381390.
Habermas, T., & Bluck, S. (2000). Getting a life: The emergence of the life story in adolescence. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 748769.
Hilbers, S. (1997, April). Adolescents narratives of parent and grandparent value socialization:
Stories of kindness and care. Poster presented at the biennial meeting of the Society for
Research in Child Development, Washington DC.
Kemper, S. (1992). Language and aging. In F. Craik & T. Salthouse (Eds.), The handbook of
aging and cognition. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Marcia, J. E., Waterman, A. S., Matteson, D. R., Archer, S. L., & Orlofsky, J. L. (1993). Ego
identity: A handbook for psychosocial research. New York: Springer-Verlag.

418

F I E S E A N D P R AT T

McAdams, D. P. (2001). The psychology of life stories. Review of General Psychology, 5, 100
122.
Nelson, K. (1999). Event representations, narrative development, and internal working models. Attachment and Human Development, 1(3), 239252.
Parke, R. D., & ONeil, R. (1999). Social relationships across contexts. In W. A. Collins &
B. Laursen (Eds.), Relationships as developmental contexts. The Minnesota symposia on child
psychology (Vol. 30, pp. 211239). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Pennebaker, J. W. (1997). Opening up: The healing power of expressing emotions. New York:
Guilford Press.
Pratt, M. W., Norris, J., Arnold, M. L., & Filyer, R. (1999). Generativity and moral development as predictors of value socialization narratives for young persons across the adult lifespan: From lessons learned to stories shared. Psychology and Aging, 14, 414426.
Pratt, M. W., & Robins, S. (1991). Thats the way it was: Age diVerences in the structure and
quality of adults personal narratives. Discourse Processes, 14, 7385.
Putney, N., & Bengston, V. (2001). Families, intergenerational relationships, and kinkeeping
in midlife. In M. E. Lachman (Ed.), Handbook of midlife development (pp. 528570). New
York: Wiley.
Reiss, D. (1989). The practicing and representing family. In A. J. SameroV & R. Emde (Eds.),
Relationship disturbances in early childhood (pp. 191220). New York: Basic Books.
Stern, D. N. (2002). The Wrst relationship: Infant and mother. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Wertsch, J. (1991). Voices of the mind. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Author Index
A

Abbott, D. A., 269, 276


Ackerman, S., 241, 253
Ackil, J., 61, 74
Adam, S., 58, 74, 101, 103, 317, 320
Adams, G. R., 176, 183
Adams-Price, C., 377, 384, 396
Ainsworth, M. D. S., 78, 79, 85, 97, 100,
102, 105, 216, 230
Albert, M. L., 335, 349
Alea, N., 57, 74, 281, 282, 297
Alessandri, S. M., 189, 207
Alisat, S., 178, 185
Allen, J., 164, 183
Allen, K. R., 380, 398
Allen, S., 178, 183
Altshuler, J., 83, 106
Anas, A. P., 19, 358, 373, 358, 379, 398,
408, 409, 414, 416
Andersson, J., 331, 348
Andres, D., 335, 348
Antze, P., 284, 296, 297
Applebee, A. N., 317, 320
Arbuckle, T., 335, 348
Archer, S. L., 158, 161, 405, 417
Arnett, J. J., 6, 20, 176, 183, 203, 207, 239,
253
Arnold, M. L., 9, 10, 15, 17, 18, 21, 23,
169, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 178,
182, 183, 184, 185, 206, 208, 236,
244, 247, 248, 255, 256, 260, 277,
306, 362, 363, 364, 366, 368, 372,
373, 404, 407, 410, 418
Atkins, R., 178, 184
Au, R., 334, 349
Auger, J., 336, 349

Bachman, J. G., 188, 194, 208


Baddeley, A., 280, 281, 297
Baetson, M. C., 401, 417
Bakan, D., 261, 275
Baker, T., 274, 276, 412, 417
Bakermans-Kranenburg, M. J., 216, 226, 232
Baker-Sennett, J., 13, 23
Bakhtin, M., 7, 12, 20, 166, 167, 171, 183,
205, 207
Baldwin, L. M., 225, 231
Baltes, P. B., 2, 6, 20, 23, 328, 347
Bamberg, M., 317, 320
Bar-Haim, Y., 83, 102
Barnard, K., 116, 130
Barnett, P. A., 213, 230
Baron-Cohen, S., 237, 253
Barth, F., 283, 297
Bartle, N., 203, 207
Bartolucci, G., 328, 350
Barton, M., 216, 230
Bates, G. W., 242, 254
Bauer, J. J., 241, 244, 248, 254
Bauer, P., 61, 74
Baumrind, D., 168, 183
Bavolek, S, J., 119, 129
Beaman, A., 395, 396, 398
Beaton, J., 369, 371
Becker, E., 240, 253
Bellah, R., 4, 20
Belouad, F., 112, 131
Belsky, J., 127, 129
Belter, J., 342, 343, 348
Bengston, V. L., 6, 15, 23, 243, 256, 354,
355, 358, 360, 371, 373, 376, 382,
396, 398, 408, 411, 418

419

420
Bennett-Kastor, T., 317, 320
Bennion, L., 176, 183
Benson, M. S., 403, 417
Benoit, D., 216, 230
Berg, C. A., 333, 349
Berlin, L. J., 58, 60, 75, 82, 102
Berman, R., 317, 320
Bernheimer, L. P., 205, 209
Bettini, L. M., 262, 277, 356, 357, 372,
378, 383, 392, 395, 397
Bickham, N., 4, 6, 7, 19, 21, 406, 407, 411,
412
Bielby, D. D. 335, 339, 347
Biggs, M., 41, 53
Biringen, Z., 119, 129
Bishop, D. S., 225, 231, 232
Black, W. C., 141, 161,
Blehar, M. C., 78, 85, 102, 216, 230
Blieszner, R., 380, 398
Block, J., 189, 208,
Bloom, H., 3, 20, 416, 417
Bluck, S., 10, 12, 13, 21, 57, 74, 136, 161,
166, 184, 188, 208, 238, 239, 254,
281, 282, 297, 407, 417
Blum-Kulka, S., 318, 320
Boden, D., 335, 339, 347
Bogdan, R., 264, 277
Bohanek, J., 95, 267, 272, 402, 403, 412
Boich, L. H., 342, 350
Bond, M. H., 296, 297
Boon, S. D., 376, 396
Botvin, G., J., 317, 320
Botyanski, N. C., 216, 232
Boucher, C., 216, 230
Bower, A. R., 336, 339, 347
Bowlby, J., 59, 74, 78, 79, 80, 95, 102, 103,
214, 230, 413, 417
Bowman, P. J., 206, 208, 242, 248, 255,
362, 372
Bowman, P. T., 242, 248, 255
Boxer, A., 241, 253
Boyes, C., 335, 350
Boyes, M., 178, 183
Boyle, P.,58, 74
Bradley, C., 241, 253
Bradshaw, D., 213, 217, 232
Braithwaite, D. O., 269, 276

AU T H O R I N D E X

Bretherton, I., 41, 42, 52, 59, 74, 79, 80,


81, 82, 83, 84, 86, 87, 88, 95, 98, 100,
102, 105, 118, 129, 214, 226, 230,
296, 297
Briggs, J., 319, 320
Brockmeier, J., 280, 282, 300
Brodsky, A. E., 109, 129
Bronfrenbrenner, U., 2, 4, 20
Brooks, R., 73, 75
Brooks-Gunn, J., 109, 129, 164, 184
Brotman, M., 58, 75
Brown, L., 165, 186
Bruce, D., 281, 298
Bruner, J., 2, 8, 9, 14, 20, 165, 166, 183
Bruner, J. S., 188, 204, 207, 237, 246, 253,
284, 298
Brussoni, M. J., 376, 396
Bryen, D. N., 334, 349
Buchsbaum, H., 83, 84, 86, 102, 112, 118,
129
Buckner, J. P., 41, 42, 52, 58, 75, 101, 102
Buehlman, K. T., 229, 230
Bugenthal, D., 414, 417
Burger, L. K., 318, 320, 323
Buriel, R., 3, 4, 7, 8, 22, 269, 277
Bruner, J., S., 318, 320
Burton, D., 189, 207
Byrd, M., 335, 347

Callanan, M. A., 41, 52


Camp, C., 346, 347
Cannito, M. P., 334, 350
Cappeliez, P., 282, 301
Capps, L., 56, 61, 76, 318, 322
Carlo, G., 110, 111, 129
Carlson, E. A., 216, 232
Carr, A., 61, 75
Carstensen, L. L., 343, 347
Carter, B., 4, 22
Carver, C. S., 176, 186
Cass, D., 193, 207
Cassidy, J., 7, 24, 58, 60, 75, 77, 79, 80, 81,
82, 87, 88, 93, 95, 97, 98, 102, 104
Cavanaugh, J. C., 343, 347

421

AU T H O R I N D E X

Caverly, S., 377, 382, 397


Cervantes, C. A., 41, 52
Chadiah, L. A., 229, 232, 260, 277
Chaitin, J., 358, 371
Chan, H. S., 376, 398
Chang, H. C., 305, 306, 307, 320
Chapman, S. B., 335, 350
Chase-Landale, P. L., 109, 129
Chen, E. C. H., 290, 298, 308, 321
Cheng, S., 333, 350
Cherlin, A., 364, 366, 371
Cheung, H., 343, 344, 349
Cho, E., 100, 102
Cicchetti, D., 84, 102, 104, 105, 112, 113,
129, 130, 131, 214, 231
Claes, M., 164, 183
Clancy, P. M., 304, 320
Clyman, R. B., 84, 102, 112, 129
Cohler, B. J., 241, 253
Cohn, D. A., 216, 217, 230, 231
Colby, A., 165, 183, 251, 253
Cole, E. R., 241, 253
Cole, H. E., 219, 232
Cole, M., 279, 298
Cole, P. M., 101, 106, 116, 131
Cole, R., 90, 101, 104, 116, 130, 131
Coleman, P., 13, 15, 20
Coles, R., 165, 183
Collins, C. L., 339, 340, 347
Collins, W. A., 164, 183, 188, 189, 205, 207
Conway, M. A., 252, 254, 281, 284, 292,
295, 298, 300
Cook, H. M., 304, 320
Cook, M., 41, 52
Cooper, C. R., 14, 21, 164, 168, 184, 188,
208
Corbitt-Price, J., 111, 130
Ct, J. E., 159, 160
Coupland, J., 339, 341, 343, 347, 348
Coupland, N., 339, 341, 343, 347, 348
Courage, M. L., 11, 21, 237, 254
Cowan, C. P., 7, 20, 216, 217, 230, 231
Cowan, P. A., 7, 20, 177, 182, 183, 216,
217, 230, 231, 412, 417
Craik, F. I. M., 329, 347
Crowell, J. A., 98, 102, 103, 213, 215, 231,
232

Cummings, E. M., 110, 129, 214, 231


Cutrona, C., 176, 186

Damon, W., 165, 183, 251, 253


Danso, H. A., 174, 185, 244, 256, 362, 372
Darling, N., 168, 173, 176, 183, 186
Dasbach, A., 19, 260, 405, 410, 411, 414,
416
Davies, K., 280, 284, 285, 290, 293, 300
Day, J., 165, 166, 167, 173, 183
De Reus, L. A., 240, 255
de St. Aubin, E., 236, 240, 241, 242, 251,
254, 255, 362, 363, 372
De WolV, M., 78, 103
DeForge, R. T., 360, 361, 371
DeJong, A., 78, 81, 87, 98, 99, 105
Denham, S. A., 41, 52, 101, 106
Dennett, D., 237, 254
Denzin, N., 239, 25
Deser, T., 335, 348
Diamond, A., 9, 16, 22, 242, 251, 255,
362, 363, 372, 377, 392, 397
Dickens, C., 362, 371
Dickinson, D. K., 28, 54
Dickstein, S., 6, 17, 19, 20, 138, 160, 165,
182, 183, 224, 228, 229, 230, 231,
247, 254, 261, 273, 275, 406, 407,
413
Diedrick, P., 3, 22, 247, 255, 261, 276
Diessner, R., 172, 178, 185
Dillon, M., 241, 254
Dixon, R. A., 17, 21, 328, 329, 330, 331,
336, 337, 338, 342, 346, 348
Dobson, K., 213, 231
Domino, G., 318, 320
Dornbusch, S., 168, 174, 176, 183, 186
Douglas, M., 274, 276, 412, 417
Dozier, M., 82, 103
Dropnik, P., 61, 74
Duke, M., 95, 267, 272, 402, 403, 412
Dunbar, N., 15, 18, 21, 136, 142, 160, 161,
404, 410
Duncan, L. E., 241, 256
Duncan, R., 167, 183

422

AU T H O R I N D E X

Dunisch, D., 61, 74


Dunn, J., 41, 42, 52
Dunn, N. J., 343, 347

Eder, R. A., 317, 320


Eichberg, C. G., 56, 75, 216, 231
Eisenberg, A. R., 36, 52
Eisenberg, N., 110, 111, 128, 129
Elliot, G. M., 358, 373, 379, 398
Elliot, L. B., 241, 257
Eltz, M., 18, 404
Ely, R., 41, 43, 44, 52, 167, 183, 317, 320
Emde, R. N., 7, 8, 22, 83, 84, 86, 96, 100,
101, 102, 104, 105, 110, 112, 113,
118, 119 129, 130, 131, 216, 232,
247, 256, 318, 322
Emery, R., 7, 24
Engel, S., 317, 318, 320
Engelhardt, K., 116, 130
Epstein, N. B., 225, 231, 232
Epston, D., 248, 257
Erikson, E. H., 5, 12, 13, 14, 20, 83, 103,
136, 160, 164, 166, 168, 183, 236,
239, 241, 254, 273, 274, 361, 371,
393, 396, 406, 408, 411, 417
Erikson, J. M., 393, 396
Esau, A. L., 136, 161
Esau, A. M., 15, 21
Etzion-Carasso, A., 95, 103
Everhart, E., 98, 103

Fabes, R. A., 110, 111, 128, 129


Fang, H., 290, 298
Faries, J. M., 281, 292, 294, 298
Farrant, K., 57, 59, 75
Farrar, M. J., 41, 52
Fasig, L. G., 41, 52, 98, 102, 103
Feldman, S. S., 215, 231
Feller, C., 343, 347

Feng, D., 354, 371, 382, 396


Fenny, N. C., 317, 320
Ferenz-Gillies, R., 98, 103, 219, 232
Fiese, B. H., 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 17, 19, 20, 21,
23, 56, 61, 62, 75, 138, 160, 165,
182, 183, 187, 207, 228, 229, 230,
231, 236, 247, 248, 254, 259, 261,
264, 273, 274, 276, 279, 280, 284,
287, 295, 296, 298, 299, 358, 378,
392, 406, 407, 411, 412, 413, 417
Filyer, R., 9, 10, 23, 175, 185, 236, 244,
248, 256, 260, 277, 362, 363, 368,
372, 407, 418
Fischer, L. R., 355, 371
Fitzgerald, J. M., 340, 348
Fitzpatrick, M., 334, 339, 349
Fivush, R., 2, 13, 17, 18, 21, 32, 33, 35, 40,
41, 42, 43, 44, 47, 52, 53, 54, 57, 58,
59, 60, 74, 75, 76, 95, 101, 102, 103,
238, 254, 262, 267, 272, 277, 317,
320, 321, 322, 402, 403, 412
Flay, B. R., 189, 207
Fleming, S. G., 334, 350
Flemming, W. S., 219, 232
Fonagy, P., 216, 231
Forbes, K. E., 334, 348
Ford, D., 178, 184
Fox, N. A., 83, 102
Fraleigh, M., 174, 183
Franz, C. E., 240, 255
Franz, E., 241, 257
Fravel, D. L., 6, 17, 20, 138, 160, 165,
182, 183, 228, 229, 230, 231, 247,
254
Freud, A., 83, 103
Frick, P. J., 119, 131
Friedman, R. J., 112, 131
Fritz, J., 296, 297
FromhoV, F. A., 32, 33, 53, 57, 75, 262,
276
Fruge, E., 343, 347
Fruzetti, A. E., 213, 231
Fuligni, A. J., 164, 184
Fung, H., 14, 17, 19, 22, 187, 188, 189,
197, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 238,
256, 260, 272, 277, 280, 290, 291,

423

AU T H O R I N D E X

292, 293, 299, 308, 309, 313, 317,


318, 320, 321, 402, 403, 408, 414
Furstenberg, F., 364, 366, 371

Gabany, S. G., 197, 207


Gao, G., 304, 305, 306, 321
Gardner, W. P., 47, 54
Gatz, M., 383, 392, 396
Gauvain, M., 279, 298
Gavin, L., 7, 22, 247, 256
Geertz, C., 280, 283, 298
Genero, N. P., 110, 129
George, C., 79, 80, 81, 87, 98, 99, 105,
214, 218, 231
Gergen, K. J., 10, 11, 17, 21
Gerhing, H., 334, 343, 343, 349
Giarrusso, R., 354, 355, 360, 371, 372,
376, 382, 396, 398
Giles, H., 328, 339, 341, 342, 347, 348,
350
Gilligan, C., 262, 276
Gini, M., 84, 105
Gladstone, J. W., 355, 371
Glaser, B. G., 264, 276
Gleason, J. B., 43, 44, 52, 164, 183
Gleason, T., 164, 183
Glosser, G., 335, 348
GoVman, E., 318, 321
Golby, B., 100, 102
Gold, D., 335, 348
Goldberg-Glen, R., 355, 371
Goldsmith, D., 13, 23
Goldstein, M., 377, 397
Goldstein, S., 73, 75
Goldwyn, R., 80, 103, 261, 214, 216, 219,
232, 273, 276
Gondoli, D. M., 164, 186
Goodman, S., 58, 75
Goodnow, J. J., 188, 207, 279, 298, 333,
348, 413, 417
Goreham, K., 340, 348
Gotlib, I. H., 213, 230, 232
Gottman, J. M., 7, 21, 229, 230

Gould, O. N., 17, 19, 21, 328, 329, 330,


331, 333, 336, 337, 338, 339, 340,
342, 343, 344, 346, 347, 348, 350,
409
Grainger, K., 343, 347
Green, J., 80, 103
Greenberg, M. T., 80, 81, 82, 105, 174, 184
Griswold, D., 376, 398
Grossbaum, M. G., 242, 254
Grotevant, H. D., 6, 12, 14, 15, 17, 18, 20,
21, 136, 137, 138, 160, 160, 161, 164,
165, 168, 173, 182, 183, 184, 188,
228, 229, 230, 231, 208, 247, 254,
261, 276, 404, 410
Gruendel, J., 83, 104
Grusec, J. E., 163, 184
Gubarchuk, J., 334, 343, 344, 349
Gudykunst, W. B., 304, 305, 321

Habermas, T., 10, 12, 13, 21, 136, 161,


166, 184, 188, 208, 238, 239, 254,
407, 417
Haden, C. A., 40, 41, 42, 47, 53, 54, 57,
58, 101, 103, 75, 76, 262, 277, 279,
284, 299, 317, 320, 321
Haft, W. L., 216, 231
Hagens, C., 395, 396
Hagestad, G. O., 3, 22, 247, 255, 261, 276
Haimovich, Z., 105, 103
Haine, R. A., 41, 42, 47, 53
Hair, J. F., 141, 161
Hamond, N. R., 317, 320
Han, J. J., 279, 295, 298, 299
Hanks, C., 116, 130
Hannah, M. T., 318, 320
Hansen, W. B., 189, 207
Harden, T., 343, 349
Hareven, T., 15, 21,
Harley, K., 57, 75, 279, 298
Harsch, N., 317, 320
Hart, D., 178, 184,
Hart, H. M., 241, 244, 248, 254
Harter, S., 283, 298

424
Harwood, J., 377, 378, 394, 396
Hasher, L., 328, 329, 351
Hasson, M., 112, 130
Hauser, S. T., 168, 184
Hayashi, M. M., 334, 350
Haynes, P., 84, 87, 105, 113, 131
Hayslip, B., Jr., 355, 358, 369, 371
Hazan, C., 213, 217, 231, 232
He, A. W., 304, 321
Heath, S. B., 318, 321
Heiman, M., 4, 22
Henderson, C. E., 358, 369, 371
Henderson, C. R., Jr., 116, 130
Hendriks, H., 317, 321
Henning, K. H., 178, 186
Henwood, K., 328, 350
Herman, J., 284, 296, 298
Hermanns, H. J. M., 10, 11, 21, 165, 166,
167, 168, 184, 205, 208
Herot, C., 84, 87, 105, 113, 131
Hesse, E., 77, 78, 103, 104
Hickmann, M., 317, 321
Hicks, C., 18, 175, 176, 183, 404, 410
Highley, A. P., 335, 350
Hilbers, S. M., 5, 17, 21, 23, 172, 185, 408,
417
Hill, J., 164, 184
Hill, R. B., 243, 254
Hirsch, B. J., 241, 244, 248, 254
Ho, D. Y. F., 296, 298
HoVman, M. L., 111, 129
Hogan, R., 100, 105
Hollenbeck, B., 110, 129
Hollingshead, A. B., 263, 276
Hollos, M., 283, 298
Holmbeck, G. N., 164, 184
Holmberg, J., 111, 130
Hoogstra, L., 308, 317, 318, 321
Hooker, K. A., 3, 17, 20, 56, 75, 187, 207,
247, 254, 259, 264, 276
Hooley, J. M., 213, 231
Hostetler, A. J., 241, 253
Howe, M. L., 11, 21, 237, 254
Hrdy, S. B., 5, 21
Hsu, F. L. K., 287, 290, 296, 298
Hudson, J. A., 57, 75, 279, 298
Huh, K., 176, 183

AU T H O R I N D E X

Hume, D., 284, 298


Hummert, M. L., 342, 350
Hunsberger, B., 178, 185
Hyman, I. E., 281, 292, 294, 298

Iannotti, R. J., 110, 129


Ivani-Chalian, C., 13, 15, 20

Jackson, J. F., 109, 130


Jacobson, N. S., 213, 231
Jacobvitz, D., 98, 99, 104
James, D., 116, 130
Jennings, J. M., 329, 347
Jesso, B., 48, 49, 50, 51, 54, 318, 322
Joels, T., 84, 105
Johansson, O., 331, 348
John, M. T., 395, 397
Johnson, A. M., 343, 349
Johnson, C. A., 189, 207
Johnston, L. D., 188, 194, 208
Josephs, K., 274, 276, 412, 417
Juncos-Rabadan, O., 335, 349, 386, 397

Kagan, J., 163, 184, 237, 254


Kalliopuska, M., 376, 397
Kandel, D., 197, 208
Kandell, S. L., 360, 371
Kaplan, N., 77, 81, 82, 83, 93, 95, 104,
214, 218, 231
Karantzas, G., 333, 348
Karbon, M., 111, 129
Katz, L. F., 7, 21, 229, 230
Kay, A., 245, 254
Keitner, G. I., 232
Kelly, A., 364, 366, 372
Kelsay, K., 84, 100, 105

425

AU T H O R I N D E X

Kemper, S., 12, 21, 334, 335, 336, 343,


344, 349, 409, 417
Kemtes, K., 334, 349
Kennedy, C. E., 358, 371
Kennedy, G. E., 357, 358, 371, 376, 397
Kenyon, G. M., 341, 349, 377, 393, 397
Keyes, C. L. M., 241, 242, 254
Khaleque, A., 119, 130
Kim, G., 242, 254
Kim, T. C., 242, 254
King, K., 333, 348
Kinney, J. M., 343, 347
Kitayama, S., 14, 22, 280, 283, 284, 299
Kitzman, H., 90 104, 116, 130
Kivnick, H. Q., 376, 397
Klagsburn, M., 80, 103,
Klohnen, E. C., 241, 244, 256
Kobak, R. R., 79, 82, 97, 98, 103, 219, 232
Koblinsky, S., 109, 110, 130
Koch, K., 394, 395, 397
Kochanska, G., 100, 101, 103
Koenig, A., 101, 103
Kohlberg, L., 165, 184
Kohler, J. K., 15, 21, 136, 161
Kondo-Ikemura, K., 213, 232
Kopera-Frye, K., 358, 369, 371
Koreishi, A., 279, 299
Koren-Karie, N., 84, 95, 103, 104, 105
Kornhaber, A., 376, 377, 381, 383, 387,
388, 393, 397
Kotary, L., 3, 17, 20, 56, 75, 187, 207, 247,
254, 259, 264, 276
Kotre, J., 236, 240, 245, 254, 255
Kotre, K. B., 245, 255
Kowalik, D. L., 213, 232
Krein, H., 331, 332, 333, 348
Krettenaur, T., 178, 186
Kroonenberg, P. M., 78, 85, 105
Kuczynski, L., 163, 184
Kuder, S. J., 344, 349
Kuebli, J., 58, 75, 238, 254
Kugler, J., 335, 349
Kuiack, S., 4, 19, 22, 355, 357, 362, 366,
367, 372, 375, 377, 383, 385, 392,
397, 409, 412, 414
Kurzman, D., 331, 348
Kynette, D., 335, 349

Labov, W., 30, 31, 36, 40, 43, 53, 57, 75,
317, 321, 336, 349
Lacasa, P., 13, 23
Lamb, S., 163, 184
Lambek, M., 296, 299
Lamborn, S., 168, 176, 186, 164, 183
Land, P., 164, 183
Langer, E., 16, 21
Lau, D. C., 307, 321
Lawrence, J. A., 333, 348
Layton, L., 241, 257
Leach, M. S., 269, 276
Leichtman, M. D., 279, 280, 283, 284,
285, 290, 293, 295, 298, 299, 300,
318, 323
Leiderman, P., 174, 183
Leis, P. E., 283, 298
Leitch, C. J., 174, 184
Lerner, J., 62, 75
Lerner, R., 62, 75
Levin, S., 225, 231
Levine, C. G., 159, 160
Levy, B., 16, 21
Lewis, M. L., 242, 248, 255
Li, J., 283, 300, 306, 319, 321
Li, K. Z., H., 328, 329, 351
Liang, C. H., 14, 17, 22, 187, 188, 189,
197, 204, 205, 206, 208, 238, 256,
260, 272, 277, 280, 290, 291, 292,
293, 299, 308, 309, 313, 321
Lin, L. C., 238, 402, 403, 408, 414
Lin, M. C., 377, 396
Logan, R., 240, 255,
Londerville, S., 100, 104
Lowenthal, D., 284, 299
Luborsky, M. R., 380, 397
Luckey, D. W., 90, 104, 116, 130
Lutenbacher, M., 119, 130
Lyons-Ruth, K., 98, 99, 104
M

Maccoby, E. E., 168, 184, 245, 255


MacArthur Narrative Working Group, 82,
83, 86, 87, 102, 105, 118 129

426
MacDermid, S. M., 240, 255
MacWe, J., 82, 84, 87, 104, 105, 112, 113, 131
Mackey, K., 15, 21, 169, 172, 173, 175,
176, 182, 184, 185, 247, 255
MacLean, M. J., 393, 398
Madsen, R., 4, 20
Main, M., 77, 78, 81, 82, 86, 93, 95, 100,
104, 214, 216, 218, 219, 231, 232,
261, 273
Manchester, J., 335, 350
Mandler, J. M., 11, 21, 238, 255
Manoogain, M. M., 358, 371
MansWeld, E., 9, 16, 22, 242, 251, 255,
362, 363, 372, 377, 392, 397
Mantz-Simmons, L., 82, 84, 87, 105, 113,
131
Marcia, J. E., 158, 159, 161, 176, 184, 405,
417
Mares, M., 334, 339, 349
Margrett, J. A., 328, 333, 349, 350
Marjinsky, K. A. T., 6, 8, 20, 56, 61, 62, 75,
273, 276, 413, 417
Markus, H. R., 14, 22, 280, 283, 284, 299
Marshall, V. W., 269, 277
Marsiske, M., 333, 349
Martin, J. A., 168, 184, 245, 255
Martin, P., 3, 22, 247, 261, 276
Martini, M., 272, 276
Maruna, S., 242, 255
Marvin, R. S., 82, 83, 102
Matteson, D. R., 158, 161, 405, 417
Maughan, A., 84, 105, 113, 131
McAdams, D. P., 4, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,
16, 17, 19, 22, 136, 137, 161, 165,
166, 180, 182, 184, 188, 206, 208,
236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242,
244, 248, 251, 254, 255, 261, 276,
284, 299, 362, 363, 372, 377, 392,
397, 402, 406, 407, 409, 410, 411,
412, 416, 418
McAdoo, H. P., 109, 115, 125, 130, 361,
372, 383, 397
McCabe, A., 2, 13, 14, 18, 22, 27, 31, 32,
33, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 43, 44,
48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 57, 75, 95,
167, 183, 262, 267, 272, 277, 279,
299, 317, 318, 320, 321, 322, 402, 403

AU T H O R I N D E X

McClean, K. C., 260, 405, 410, 411, 414,


416
McClelland, D., 16, 22
McConnochie, K. M., 116, 130
McGoldrick, M., 4, 22
McGuire, L. C., 343, 347
McHale, J. P., 7, 22
McKay, V., 377, 381, 397
McLane, J. B., 47, 53
McLean, K. C., 19, 188, 208
McRoy, R. G., 136, 138, 161
McWright, L. A., 361, 372, 383, 397
Mead, M., 375, 397
Meegan, S. P., 333, 349
Melvold, J., 335, 349
Mennuti-Washburn, J., 58, 60, 75
Meredith, S. D., 358, 373, 379, 393, 398
Meredith, W. H., 269, 276
Mergler, N., 377, 397
Merriam, S. B., 282, 299
Meske, C., 269, 276
Michaels, S., 318, 321
Michel, M. K., 112, 130
Miller, I. W., 232
Miller, L., 343, 349
Miller, P. A., 110, 129,
Miller, P. J., 9, 14, 17, 22, 27, 53, 56, 76,
187, 188, 189, 197, 204, 205, 206,
208, 238, 256, 260, 264, 272, 277,
280, 290, 291, 292, 293, 299, 308,
309, 313, 317, 318, 321, 323, 402,
403, 408, 414
Miller, P., 318, 321
Milofsky, E., 241, 257
Minami, M., 31, 53
Minde, K., 216, 230
Mintz, J., 280, 291, 292, 293, 299, 308,
309, 313, 317, 318, 321, 322
Moore, B. B., 264, 277, 318, 321
Morris, A., 23
Morris, T. M., 174, 184
Morson, G. S., 245, 246, 256
Mortenson, M., 331, 332, 333, 348
Moscowitz, D. S., 241, 253
Moshman, D., 137, 161
Mounts, N., 168, 176, 186
Mowery, D., 343, 347

427

AU T H O R I N D E X

Mullen, M. K., 280, 283, 284, 287, 291,


293, 295, 299
Munholland, K. A., 79, 95, 102
Munn, P., 41, 42, 52
Murray, H., 261, 277
Mussen, P., 111, 129
Myers, D. G., 243, 244, 255

Nakagawa, K., 244, 255


Nakamura, H., 290, 299
Narasimhan, B., 43, 52
Nasar, S., 362, 372
Neisser, U., 280, 281, 299
Nelson, K., 83, 104, 279, 280, 281, 282,
284, 287, 295, 299, 300, 412, 418
Neugarten, B., 355, 364, 372
Niederehe, G., 343, 347
NIHCD Early Child Care Research Network, 114, 115, 117, 130
Nir, A., 8, 22, 84, 104, 112, 130, 318, 322
Noam, G., 168, 184
Nocera, R., 343, 347
Norman, S., 335, 349
Norris, J. E., 4, 9, 10, 15, 19, 22, 23, 167,
172, 174, 185, 206, 208, 236, 244,
248, 256, 260, 277, 353, 354, 355,
357, 358, 359, 360, 362, 363, 364,
366, 367, 368, 369, 371, 372, 373,
358, 375, 376, 377, 383, 385, 388,
393, 395, 397, 407, 408, 409, 412,
414, 416, 418
Nussbaum, J., 376, 378, 383, 387, 392, 397
Nussbaum, J. F., 262, 277, 341, 342, 346,
350, 356, 367, 372, 377, 393, 394,
395, 398

OBrien, K., 335, 349


OConnor, E., 213, 232
OMalley, P. M., 194, 208
ONeil, R., 412, 418
Obler, L. K., 335, 349, 356, 372

Ochberg, R. L., 240, 256


Ochs, E., 11, 22, 56, 61, 76, 187, 208, 318,
322
OVer, D., 164, 185
Olds, D. L., 90, 104, 116, 130
Oliveri, M., 15, 22
Oppenheim, D., 7, 8, 18, 22, 79, 80, 83,
84, 86, 95, 96, 100, 101, 102, 103,
104, 112, 113, 118, 129, 130, 131,
247, 255, 273, 296, 318, 322, 403,
413
Orange, J. B., 343, 349, 393, 398
Orlofsky, J. L., 405, 417
Ortega, R. M., 229, 232, 260, 277
Osborn, C., 331, 332, 333, 348
Ostrove, J. M., 242, 257
Othick, M., 334, 343, 344, 349
Owens, G., 213, 232

Padavich, D. L., 101, 103


Page, T., 84, 105
PaikoV, R. L., 164, 184
Pan, H., 213, 232
Pancer, S. M., 178, 179, 185
Pang, V. O., 319, 322
Pannebaker, J. W., 415, 418
Parke, R. D., 3, 4, 7, 8, 22, 269, 277, 412,
418
Pasupathi, M., 341, 350, 393, 397
Patten, A., 242, 248, 255
Paul, R., 28, 53
Pearce, K., 19, 358, 408, 409, 414, 416
Pearson, J. L., 216, 217, 230, 231
Pedersen, S., 164, 184
Penuel, W. R., 166, 185
Peplau, L. A., 176, 185
Peterson, B. E., 241, 244, 245, 256, 362,
366, 372
Peterson, C., 2, 13, 14, 18, 22, 27, 31, 32,
33, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 44, 45,
46, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 57, 60, 75,
76, 95, 262, 267, 272, 277, 279, 299,
317, 318, 321, 322, 402, 403
Piaget, J., 11, 22, 165, 185

428

AU T H O R I N D E X

Pillemer, D. B., 11, 22, 59, 76, 279, 280,


281, 282, 284, 287, 294, 296, 299
Pitcher, E. G., 317, 322
Pleck, J. H., 202, 208
Pleydell-Pearce, C. W., 252, 254, 281, 298
Plummer, P., 197, 207
Plunkett, S. W., 216, 232
Polanyi, L., 36, 54
Polkinghorne, D. E., 4, 23, 137, 161, 182,
185, 284, 299
Poltrock, S., 274, 276, 412, 417
Posada, G., 213, 232
Potts, R.,308, 317, 318, 321
Powell, D., 7, 20
Powers, S., 168, 184
Pratt, A. T., 172, 178, 185
Pratt, M. W., 4, 9, 10, 12, 15, 17, 18, 19,
21, 22, 23, 165, 167, 169, 172, 173,
174, 175, 176, 178, 179, 182, 183,
184, 185, 206, 208, 236, 244, 247,
248, 255, 256, 260, 277, 335, 350,
355, 357, 358, 360, 362, 363, 364,
366, 367, 368, 369, 371, 372, 373,
375, 377, 378, 385, 392, 395, 397,
404, 407, 409, 410, 412, 413, 414,
418
Preece, A., 318, 322
Prelinger, E., 317, 322
Prince, J. 335, 350
Putnam, R. D., 243, 244, 255
Putney, N., 6, 15, 23, 243, 255, 358, 373,
408, 411, 418

Radke-Yarrow, M., 110, 111, 129, 131


RadloV, L. S., 176, 185
RaeV, C., 283, 299
Randolph, S., 109, 110, 130
Rash, S., 335, 349
Rasmussen, J. L., 7, 22
Ray, R. E., 395, 398
Reese, E., 40, 41, 47, 54, 57, 58, 59, 75, 76,
262, 277, 279, 284, 298, 299, 317,
322

Reiss, D., 4, 6, 15, 17, 22, 23, 247, 256,


405, 418
Reivich, K., 73, 76
Renouf, A., 7, 22, 247, 256
Repinski, D. J., 189, 207
Rescorla, L., 317, 320
Reynolds, J., 242, 248
Rice, K., 343, 344, 349
Richardson, D. T., 112, 131
Ridgeway, D., 80, 81, 82, 87, 88, 98, 101,
102, 106, 296, 297
Rimmer, M., 3, 17, 20, 56, 75, 187, 207,
247, 254, 259, 264, 276
Ritter, P., 174, 183,
Roberto, K. A., 376, 380, 381, 398
Roberts, B., 340, 350, 395, 398
Roberts, C., 45, 46, 54
Roberts, D., 174, 183
Robertson, J., 18, 267, 272, 402, 403, 412
Robertson, R., 95
Robins, S. L., 12, 23, 335, 350, 357, 373,
377, 398, 409, 418
Robinson, J., 82, 84, 87, 90, 100, 104, 105,
404
Robinson, J. A., 281, 300
Robinson, J. L., 110, 111, 112, 113, 119,
129, 130, 131
Robinson, M., 13, 15, 20
Rodrigues, L. M., 80, 81, 106
RogoV, B., 11, 13, 23, 47, 54, 169, 185,
279, 295, 300
Rogosch, F. A., 84, 104, 105, 112, 130
Rohner, R. P., 119, 130, 131
Roman, J., 216, 230
Romaniuk, J. G., 282, 300
Romaniuk, M., 282, 300
Rnnberg, J. 331, 348
Rose, A. J., 318, 323
Rosenberg, M., 176, 185
Rosenthal, C. J., 269, 277
Rosenwald, G. C., 240, 256
Ross, M., 281, 300
Rossi, A., 241, 242, 243, 244, 256
Roth, F. P., 28, 54
Rudolph, D., 11, 22, 56, 76, 176, 185
Russel, D., 176, 185

AU T H O R I N D E X

Russell, A., 45, 54


Ryan, E. B., 15, 19, 23, 328, 342, 350, 358,
373, 358, 379, 393, 395, 393, 398,
408, 409, 414, 416
Ryan, J., 333, 348
RyV, C. D., 241, 242, 254
Rygh, J., 83, 106

Saebel, J., 45, 54


Sagi, A., 82, 84, 104, 105
Sales, J. M., 58, 60, 75, 76
Salovely, P., 281, 294, 300
Salusky, S., 213, 231
SameroV, A., 6, 17, 20, 23, 138, 160, 165,
182, 183, 228, 229, 230, 231, 247,
254, 261, 273, 275, 276
Sandel, T. L., 187, 188, 189, 197, 204, 205,
206, 208, 308, 313, 321
Sanders, G. F., 269, 276
Sarbin, T., 10, 23, 166, 186
Saum, C., 342, 343, 348
Sceery, A., 79, 97, 103
Schaller, M., 110, 129
Scheier, M. M., 176, 186
SchieVelen, B., 15, 23, 187, 208, 318, 322
Schiller, M., 224, 231, 261, 273, 275
Schindel Martin, L., 395, 398
Schmaling, K. B., 213, 231
Schmitz, S., 84, 100, 105
Schonert-Reichl. K. A., 164, 185
Schuster, E., 378, 392, 394, 395, 398
Schwagler, J., 3, 17, 20, 56, 75, 187, 207,
247, 254, 259, 264, 276
Schwartzman, A., 335, 348
Scollon, R., 304, 322
Scollon, S. W., 304, 322
Seabrook, L., 98, 103
Seifer, R., 224, 231, 261, 273, 275
Selman, R., 12, 23
Sesma, A., 164, 183
Shaleen, L., 344, 348
Shanks, M. F., 334, 348
Shatte, A., 73, 76

429
Shaver, D., 116, 130, 213, 217, 231, 232
Shaver, P. R., 58, 75
Shedler, J., 189, 208
Shelton, K. K., 119, 131
Shen, Y. L., 376, 398
Sher-Censor, E., 8, 18, 296, 402, 413
Shore, J. R., 358, 369, 371
Shouldice, A., 80, 81, 82, 105
Sidora, K., 90, 104, 116, 130
Siegel, J. M., 174, 184
Sillars, A. L., 331, 350
Silver, D. H., 217, 231
Silverberg, S. B., 164, 186
Silverman, J., 355, 371
Silverstein, M., 354, 355, 360, 371, 373,
376, 377, 382, 396, 398
Singer, J. A., 206, 208, 281, 294, 300
Singer, N., 317, 320
Skillman, G., 264, 276
Skoglund, R., R., 376, 381, 398
Slade, A., 216, 231
Slobin, D., 317, 320, 346, 350
Slobin, K., 346, 350
Slough, N., 80, 81, 82, 105
Smetana, J., 164, 173, 186, 205, 208
Smirles, K. A., 241, 244, 245, 256, 362,
372
Smith, C., 73, 76
Smith, J., 6, 23
Smith, M. C., 9, 23
Smith, M., 360, 373
Smith, P. K., 365, 373
Smith, R. L., 28, 53
Smith, R., 11, 22, 56, 76
Smith, V., 80, 103
Smollar, J., 168, 186
Smyth, J., 346, 350
Snarey, J., 242, 256
Snicket, L., 73, 76
Snow, C. E., 28, 36, 54
Snow, C., 318, 320
Solomon, J., 78, 79, 80, 81, 86, 87, 98, 99,
104, 105
Soothill, W. E., 305, 322
Spanier, G., 225, 232
Speer, A. L., 111, 129

430

AU T H O R I N D E X

Sperry, D. E., 318, 322


Sperry, L. L., 318, 322
Spiro, M. E., 283, 300
Sprott, R., 335, 349
St. Andre, M., 224, 231, 261, 273, 275
St. Aubin, E. de, 9, 16, 22, 377, 392, 397
Stanley, C., 80, 103
Staudinger, U. M., 328, 347
Stayton, D. J., 100, 105
Steele, H., 216, 231
Steele, M., 216, 231
Steinberg, L., 23, 164, 168, 173, 176, 183,
186, 205, 208,
Steiner, I. D., 331, 350
Stern, D. N., 402, 418
Stern, D., 317, 322
Stevenson-Hinde, J., 80, 81, 82, 105
Stewart, A. J., 240, 241, 242, 253, 256,
257
Stone, P. S., 318, 322
Strauss, A., 264, 276
Strom, R. D., 376, 398
Strom, S. K., 376, 398
Strough, J., 328, 333, 350
Stueve, J. L., 202, 208
Sullivan, W., 4, 20
Sussman, S., 189, 207
Sutherland, L., 229, 232, 260, 277
Sutton, D. B., 83, 102
Sutton-Smith, B., 317, 320, 322
Swanson, K. L., 281, 300
Swenson, L. M., 333, 350
Swidler, A., 4, 20
Switzer, G., 111, 129
Szinovacz, M. E., 376, 398

Taylor, C. E., 1, 22, 318, 321


Taylor, S. J., 264, 277
Teasdale, J. D., 213, 231
Terkel, S., 356, 357, 373
Tessler, M., 279, 300
Teti, D. M., 81, 105
Thompson, R., 59, 76
Thorne, A., 14, 15, 17, 19, 23, 188, 208,
260, 405, 410, 411, 414, 416
Thorsheim, H., 340, 350, 395, 398
Tindale, J. A., 355, 357, 358, 372, 376,
377, 388, 397
Ting-Toomey, S., 304, 305, 321
Tipten, S., 4, 20
Tocco, M., 335, 349
Tolstoy, L., 245, 246, 257
Toma, C., 11, 23
Tomasello, M., 237, 257
Tomcho, T., 274, 276, 412, 417
Tomlin, A. M., 376, 377, 398
Toth, S. L., 84, 102, 104, 105, 112, 113,
129, 130, 131,
Treboux, D., 213, 232
Trevithick, L., 330, 331, 346, 348
Triandis, H. C., 280, 283, 284, 300
Troyer, D., 111, 129
Tun, P. A., 334, 350
Twenge, J., 243, 257

Ulatowska, H. K., 334, 335, 350


Ulven, J., 340, 348
Usher, B., 101, 106

T
V

Tabors, P. O., 28, 54


Tan, A., 395, 398
Tannen, D., 44, 54
Tappan, M. B., 17, 23, 165, 166, 167, 169,
173, 183, 186
Tari, A. J., 353, 354, 357, 359, 372
Tatelbaum, R., 116, 130

Vaillant, G. E., 241, 257


Valdez-Menchaca, M. C., 51, 54
Valsiner, J., 279, 300
van de Hoef, S., 172, 185, 206, 208
Van Gennep, K. M. 343, 349
van Hoof, A., 159, 161

431

AU T H O R I N D E X

van IJzendoorn, M. H., 78, 82, 85, 93, 97,


103, 105, 213, 216, 226, 232
Vandeputte, D., 343, 344, 349
Vandewater, E. A., 241, 242, 257
Vanmeenen, K., 113, 131
Vasudeva, A., 59, 75
Vaughn, B. E., 213, 232
Venneri, A., 334, 348
VeroV, J., 229, 232, 260, 277
Vidovic, D., 216, 230
Vinden, P. G., 9, 24
Vitz, P., 165, 186
Volpendesta, D., 343, 347
von Klitzing, K., 84, 100, 105
Vuchinich, S., 7, 24
Vygotsky, L. S., 12, 13, 14, 24, 47, 54, 166,
186, 279, 295, 300

Wagner, E.,87, 105


Waletzky, J., 30, 31, 36, 40, 43, 53
Walker, L. J., 163, 178, 186
Wall, S., 78, 85, 101, 102, 216, 230
Wamboldt, F. S., 6, 17, 20, 22, 84, 104,
138, 160, 166, 167, 168, 185, 186,
228, 229, 230, 231, 247, 254, 256,
260, 277
Wang, C. M., 376, 398
Wang, Q., 14, 17, 19, 24, 238, 279, 280,
282, 283, 284, 285, 287, 288, 290,
292, 293, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299,
300, 318, 323, 403, 408, 412, 416
Ward, M. J., 216, 232
Warren, J., 334, 343, 344, 349
Warren, S. L., 8, 22, 84, 96, 101, 104, 112,
113, 130, 131, 318, 322
Waterman, A. S., 158, 159, 161, 241, 257,
405, 417
Waters, E., 79, 80, 85, 104, 213, 216, 230,
232
Waters, H. S., 78, 81, 95, 101, 106
Waters, J., 61, 74
Watson-Gegeo, K., 318, 323
Watt, L., 282, 300

Webster, J. D., 282, 300, 301, 340, 348, 350


Wechsler, D., 85, 88, 106
Weimann, J. M., 339, 347
Weisner, T. S., 205, 209
Weinstein, K., 355, 364, 372
Welch-Ross, M. K., 41, 52
Wellman, H. M., 11, 24, 237, 257
Wentworth, P. A., 241, 244, 245, 256, 362,
372
Wertsch, J. V., 13, 24, 279, 301, 415, 418
Whitbourne, S. K., 241, 257
White, M., 248, 257
White, S. H., 279, 299
Whitehurst, G. J., 51, 54
Wiener, P., 111, 130
Wigglesworth, G., 317, 323
Wilder, J., 4, 6, 7, 21
Wiley, A., 14, 17, 22, 187, 208, 238, 260,
272, 277, 280, 290, 291, 292, 293,
299, 308, 309, 318, 321, 323
Williams, A., 341, 342, 346, 350, 376, 377,
393, 394, 395, 398
Wilmot, W. W., 331, 350
Wilson, B., 55, 76
WingWeld, A., 334, 350
Wink, P., 241, 254
Wintre, M. G., 168, 186
Wiscott, R., 358, 369, 371
Wolf, A., 317, 320
Wolf, D. P., 83, 106
Wong, P. T. P., 282, 300
Wooton, J., 119, 131
Wozniak, R., 189, 207
Wrobel, G. M., 136, 161

YaVe, M., 168, 186


Yang, C. Y., 376, 398
Yi, S., 280, 284, 287, 291, 293, 299
Youn, G., 242, 254
Young, D. J., 296, 301
Young, L. W. L., 304, 323
Youniss, J., 168, 186
Yum, J. O., 304, 305, 323

432

AU T H O R I N D E X

Zacks, R. T., 328, 329, 351


Zahn-Waxler, C., 101, 106, 110, 111, 112,
129, 131, 296, 297
Zamsky, E. S., 109, 129

Zarit, S. H., 383, 392, 396


Zeanah, C. H., 216, 230, 232
Ziv, Y., 84, 105
Zoller, D., 41, 52
ZuroV, D., 41, 52, 241, 253
Zuschlag, M. K., 241, 257

Subject Index

Adolescent narratives, 169180, 404406


and adolescent psychosocial development,
175178
and parent-child relations, 174175
parent voice in, 169173
and social responsibility, 178180
voice development in, 167
Adolescent value socialization, 164, 165166
moral development and, 165
narrative approach to, 168
Adoption and narrative identity, 136137,
157158
adoptive identity narratives, 137138,
139141
integrated identity, 153157
limited identity, 146150
unexamined identity, 142146
unsettled identity, 150153
See also, Identity development
Aging
and accommodation to partner needs,
341345
and cognitive factors in narrating, 327
351
and joint storytelling by couples, 334
341, 408409
and memory, 328334
See also, Story recall
Attachment, 78, 213215
internal working models, 7882
patterns of, 213217, 220221
Attachment in infancy, 89100
and aggressive and destructive story
themes, 93

and story caregiver representations, 92


and child narrative representations, 91
100
and story coherence, 9091
gender diVerences, 89
Autobiographical memory functions, 281
282
cultural diVerences in, 283294
self-deWnition and regulation, 283
286
social function, 286290
directive function, 286290
See also, Reminiscence; Self-concept

Child narratives, 2728, 402404


assessing complexity, 3335
development of, 4648
developing understanding of, 237
240
organizational styles, 3132
parent scaVolding of, 4851
variability in, 2830
Coherence of narratives, 87, 93100, 220
222, 238239, 403409
and Family Narrative Consortium Instrument, 137138, 140141
Confucianism, inXuence on communication
patterns in China, 304306, 308
Communication accommodation theory,
341344
elderspeak and, 342343
Cultural inXuences on narrative, 279301,
303323

433

434

SUBJECT INDEX

Drug use, 189190, 193194


parent communication with teens about
own, 188189, 190192, 194, 202
204
expressing regret, 199200
honesty and, 196197
personal integrity and knowing drug
facts, 197198
providing a safety net for experimentation, 200202

Ecological theory of development, 35


Empathic development, 110111
and behaviour, 111
Eriksons stages of development, 1316,
273274, 406

Family
cultural diVerences, 1516
ecological context and stories, 34
practicing and representing aspects, 68
role in socialization, 23
Family narratives, 401402
cultural diVerences in, 238
and emotional resilience, 6165, 7273
functions of, 252
obtaining information, 16
perspective taking in, 267268
representative of meaning making, 17
role in socialization, 17
Family styles of narrative, 6571
child-centered interactions, 6869
collaborative interactions, 6566
cooperative interactions, 6869
disharmonious interactions, 7071
facilitated/moderated interactions, 6970
Family systems, 354356
Model, 354356
and narrative, 411415

practicing and representing aspects of, 6


8
routines and rituals in, 68, 411415

Gender diVerences in narratives, 4446, 57


58, 262263, 268273
Generativity, 236237, 240
individual diVerences, 241
Eriksons theory of, 241
in the family, 242244
in family stories, 247248
and grandparent stories, 361366
and parenting style, 244
Grandchildrens story themes about grandparents, 386389
appreciation, 386387
advice, 388
importance of, 389
Grandparent narratives, functions of, 356,
408409
basis for building intergenerational relationships, 357358
expressing generativity, 361366
teaching family and social history, 358
360
transmission of values, 360361
Grandparent narrative themes, types of,
380385
advice, 382384
family, 381382
historical, 380381
life story, 384385
Grandparent family role, 355356, 376
Grandparenting styles and narratives, 364
366

Identity development, 1315, 135161,


176177, 239240, 382, 405
adoption and, 135161
Eriksons theory of, 5, 158, 166
narrative theories of, 1011

435

SUBJECT INDEX

Intergenerational relationships, 376377,


392
changing nature of, 376
family systems theory of, 354356
and life span development, 392393
meanings of, 376
obstacles to, 377

Life span development, 1316, 402411


changing perspectives on, 56
Listener role in narrative, 306319
young children as active, 309319
cultural diVerences in, 306309, 315319

Narrative and paradigmatic modes of knowing, 810


Narrative scripts, 187209
Parent and adolescent reactions to, 196
206
See also, Drug use, parent communication
about
Narrative structure, 3146
development of elements of, 3136
causal relationships, 4243
emotional evaluation, 4042
gender diVerences, 4446
orientation to context, 3640
reported speech, 4344

P
M

MacArthur Story Stem Battery, 8384, 87


88, 111, 118119
See also, Attachment and narrative
Marital attachment, 217218, 227228
clinical implications, 229230
interview (MAI), 218224
relation to Adult Attachment Interview,
218224
Marital narratives, 228229
Memory sharing, 294297
cultural diVerences in, 294297
therapeutic functions of, 296297
Mothers caregiving patterns and child narrative, 109132

Narrative assessment of attachment in


infancy, 80
coding, 8788
MacArthur Story Stem Battery, 8384, 86
separation anxiety text, 8083
strange situation procedure, 8586
Narrative methods, 1617, 159, 165, 379
380

Parent narratives, 406408


aYliation, 268270
independence, 271272
and Eriksons stages of childhood development, 272275
purposes, 259260
conveying values, 187
guiding conduct, 187
thematic content and socialization,
261
transgression narratives to children and
adolescents, 187206
work and striving for success, 269271
Parenting styles and adolescent narrative,
167175
See also, Adolescent narratives
Preschoolers narratives, 2754, 93108,
109132, 402404
and attachment, 93100
ambivalent attachment, 9698
disorganized attachment, 9899
domain speciWcity, 99100
gender diVerences, 100101
secure attachment, 9496
parental scaVolding of, 4751
prosocial and agonistic themes in, 111
114, 118
See also, Attachment in infancy; Coherence of narratives

436

SUBJECT INDEX

Reminiscence in families, 3235, 5561


attachment and, 5859
cultural diVerences in, 286294
elaborative versus repetitive styles of, 32
35, 5561
negative events, 6061
parent-child, 5658
gender diVerences, 5758
individual diVerences, 57
S

Self-concept, 283286
cultural construction of, 283286
independent vs. interdependent, 283286
Shared caregiving patterns, 109, 114115
associated with narrative themes, 121,
125, 127128

correlates of narrative themes, 121, 125


maternal characteristics associated with,
119121, 126127
Sociocultural theory of narrative and the life
cycle, 1214, 165167, 279
and cultural diVerences, 279281
and parenting, 4748, 167171
See also, Preschoolers narratives, parental
scaVolding of
Story recall, 328334
collaboration and, 328334
in older adults, 328334
See also, Aging
Story writing, 378379
beneWts of, 390392
contrasts with story telling, 393394
purpose, 390
See also, Grandparent narrative themes
Symbolic interactionist approach to marital
narratives, 229

Вам также может понравиться